Derek's POV
I was completely speechless. How had she gotten here so quickly, and right on time? I had been convinced today was the day I would die — alone in that cold, damp cell, with nothing but pain and darkness for company. But it seemed my grim dream of a quiet, lonely end was farfetched after all. What made me even more speechless, what truly stole the air from my lungs, was the sight of her breaking down in tears at the sight of my misery. I don't remember ever feeling so close to her before, not like this. Her tears weren't just for show; they were raw, real, and they hit me harder than any punch I had taken.
She quickly crouched down beside me, her hands working frantically at the heavy chains around my wrists and ankles. But unfortunately… her cleavage was in full sight, right there in the dim torchlight of the dungeon. I coughed awkwardly, trying to signal her without making things worse, but it only seemed to draw more attention to the moment.
"Please, position yourself well," I managed to rasp through gritted teeth, my voice hoarse from hours of silence and pain. "I don't want such a show right now."
She had already finished unlocking the last chain. She stood up abruptly in complete embarrassment, her cheeks flushing bright red even in the low light. In her flustered state, she accidentally kicked me in the side. I winced sharply in pain, and I heard a soft, genuine apology slip from her lips almost immediately.
"Can you still walk?" she asked, her voice tight with worry and urgency. "I can support you, but I can't carry you fully."
I managed to stand, but honestly it took every single ounce of strength I had left in my battered body. My legs felt like jelly, my ribs screamed with every breath, and the world spun for a second. She slipped her arm around my waist, supporting my weight as best she could while we made our slow, painful way out of the dungeon and into the open air. I expected her to take me straight to a hospital — somewhere safe where doctors could patch me up and I could finally rest. But instead, we ended up at the most famous TV station in the entire country, its bright lights and towering antennas cutting through the night sky like a beacon.
What are we doing here? The question burned in my mind, but before I could even form the words to ask—
"I can't let them trample on us anymore," she said fiercely, her eyes blazing with determination I had never seen before. "We can win this war, which is more complicated than we think, if we are on the thrones where we belong."
Without wasting another second, she marched straight into the manager's office and threw a thick wad of cash onto his desk with a loud slap. "I want to go live… now!"
Typical human — the man's eyes widened at the sight of the money, and he gathered it quickly, doing exactly as he was told without a single question. Within minutes, the cameras were rolling, the lights were blinding, and the live broadcast began.
Tatiana stood tall and strong in front of the lens, her voice steady and powerful even though I could see the exhaustion in her posture. "Good evening, people. My name is Tatiana Voss and this is Derek Voss. We need your help. We were assassinated by the current leadership and forced into exile. As we tried to fight for what was rightfully ours, he suffered this fate." She gestured toward my bloodied, beaten body beside her, her hand trembling slightly. "Help us reclaim our thrones and bring our country back to stability!"
The words had barely left her mouth when I heard the sharp crack of a gunshot ring out through the studio. Without thinking, without hesitation, I jumped in front of Tatiana and took the blow myself. The bullet slammed into my chest like a hammer of fire. The pain was unbearable, spreading through me like a wildfire, burning every nerve and stealing the breath from my lungs. She screamed my name, her voice cracking with terror, but I could no longer hear her words clearly. Everything around me blurred and faded. I blacked out completely.
I was running in a beautiful, endless field. The pain was gone, replaced by a strange sense of peace. The air was full of vitality, fresh and sweet, carrying the scent of wildflowers and warm sunlight. An endless light shone ahead of me — bright, welcoming, like a place where all worries disappeared. It seemed like such a nice place to finally rest. But then I was stuck, frozen in place. Endless darkness suddenly enveloped me, cold and heavy. A calm, otherworldly voice spoke directly into my mind: "You have two futures. I am in charge of guiding you to what you want — either good or bad. And I must say… it's not time for your death yet."
I blinked hard, and the next thing I saw was beautiful Tatiana sitting right at my bedside, her hand gently resting near mine. The hospital room was quiet except for the soft beeping of machines.
"You jerk," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes again. "I thought you were going to leave me to fight this war alone. But nevertheless… welcome back. We've been able to gain back our thrones, even though it took a long time. We still need to find the culprits who did this to us."
"How long had I been out?" I asked weakly. She looked healthier and stronger than the last time we had met — more vibrant, more alive somehow.
"You've been out for five months," she said softly, her voice catching just a little.
My eyes widened in surprise at the length of time, but she said no more about it.
That period of silence between us was the longest I had ever experienced, even though it only lasted for some seconds. I took in her appearance slowly, letting every detail sink in. She had on a simple crop top that showed just a hint of her midriff, paired with some weird jeans I couldn't even begin to describe — stylish but practical, the kind that said she had been living on the move. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, strands falling loose around her face; I could tell she had stayed the night right here by my side, probably refusing to leave even for a moment. Her lips were full and soft, and her whole face looked radiant under the gentle morning light filtering through the window. I don't know why, but there was this strong magnetic pull I felt toward her in that moment, drawing me in like nothing else mattered.
I kept my eyes on her, unblinking, completely lost in the sight. She did the same, staring right back at me. There were too many unspoken words hanging between us — months of separation, fear, longing, and everything we had been through — but somehow, in that quiet hospital room, we understood each other perfectly without needing to say a thing.
She burst into tears first, her shoulders shaking. I felt hot tears streaming down my own cheeks before I could stop them. I don't know exactly when or how the words formed, but I heard myself say it clearly, my voice rough but full of everything I had been holding back:
"I love you."
She raised her head in surprise, eyes wide. After a minute that felt like forever, she smiled through her tears and repeated my words back to me, soft and certain:
"I love you too."
People suddenly burst into the room — doctors, nurses, a few loyal allies who had been waiting outside — all of them smiling wide and saying congratulations, clapping and cheering quietly so they wouldn't disturb the moment too much. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt real, deep relief wash over me like a warm wave. The war wasn't over yet, the culprits were still out there, but we had each other. We had our thrones back. And together, we were finally ready to face whatever came next.