Morning had fully awakened when Alaska noticed the shift in the wind.
The sea, which had greeted them with gentle tides earlier, now dragged its waves harder against the shore, as if warning them of something stirring beneath the surface of their calm haven. Alana stood barefoot on the balcony, her oversized white shirt fluttering like a fragile flag in the breeze.
She didn't see Alaska tense up, didn't notice the subtle shift in his posture as he scanned the beach and the sky his instincts, shaped by a lifetime of danger, were trembling.
"What's wrong?" Alana asked when she finally caught the flicker in his eyes.
Alaska forced a slow breath. "Nothing. Just the wind changing."
But his jaw clenched.
Alana reached for his hand, but before she could touch him, a distant buzz cut through the sound of crashing waves. A drone tiny but precise hovered near the cliffside. Alaska's vision sharpened, ice filling his veins.
He stepped in front of Alana, shielding her even though the machine was meters away.
The drone tilted, capturing their faces.
Alaska didn't hesitate.
He grabbed the gun taped beneath the balcony rail a precaution, always and fired. One shot. The drone sputtered, spiraled, and crashed into the rocks below.
Alana flinched. "Alaska… who would?"
"They found us," he said, voice bone-cold.
The softness he carried only moments ago was buried deep again.
He pulled her close, his pulse pounding too fast, too loud.
"I won't let anything happen to you," he whispered.
But even as he said the words, he knew it wouldn't be that simple.
Inside the beach house, Alaska moved quickly pressing hidden switches, activating security systems she hadn't even known existed. Steel shutters rolled down over the windows. Small red lights blinked to life along the walls.
The house was no longer a sanctuary.
It was a fortress.
Alana stood silently by the couch, arms wrapped around herself.
"Tell me," she said softly. "Who's coming?"
Alaska paused, one hand hovering over a biometric safe embedded in the floor. The hesitation was brief almost invisible but Alana caught it.
"Direndra's past," he answered. "The debts my father made. The enemies I left alive."
"And the man with the crow tattoo?" Alana whispered, remembering the photo she had once glimpsed on Alaska's desk an image of a man with dark eyes and a crow-shaped mark on his skin.
Alaska's expression hardened.
"Kavron."
The name tasted like blood.
"He was my father's most loyal assassin. Until he wasn't. He betrayed our family, tried to burn everything down." Alaska's voice lowered, darker. "Including me."
Alana's breath hitched. "Why now?"
"Because he finally has a weapon to use against me."
His eyes met hers. "You."
Silence fell thick and suffocating.
"You're not alone in this," Alana insisted, stepping forward. "We face it together."
Alaska shook his head.
"No. He wants to draw me out. And he will succeed if you're anywhere near the fire."
Her voice trembled. "You're trying to send me away."
"I'm trying to keep you alive," Alaska snapped then immediately softened. "Alana… if anything happened to you, I would burn the world until I found the man responsible."
She swallowed hard, tears glazing her lashes.
"You promised to let me pull you back from the darkness."
He froze.
"And I will," she continued, voice fierce and fragile. "But how can I do that if you lock me out of the fight?"
Alaska brushed a hand through her hair, forehead pressing against hers.
"I'm terrified," he admitted. "Terrified that loving you is the mistake that will get you killed."
Alana cupped his face.
"Then let me be the one mistake you never regret."
His chest tightened painfully and then, slowly, he nodded.
By late afternoon, the ocean had turned steel gray, reflecting the tension inside the house. Alaska armed himself with silent determination holster strapped, knives hidden, backup magazines clipped behind his belt.
Alana followed him into his surveillance room. Screens flickered with live feeds of the beach, the road, the cliffs.
Nothing yet.
But still… something.
Alana traced her fingers over the ring he'd slipped onto her earlier that morning.
"You gave me a promise," she reminded, voice soft but steady. "So I'm giving you one too."
Alaska arched a brow, waiting.
"No matter how dark it gets… I won't run."
His eyes burned an emotion caught between love and fear.
He reached for her hand, thumb brushing the black-metal ring.
"I should've known you'd fight me on this," he murmured.
A small smile touched her lips.
"You should've."
The moment wasn't romantic or peaceful.
It was sharp. Electric. Binding. Their love, born from danger, only grew stronger in it.
Then the alarm. A shrill, piercing beep.
On the screen. A black van crawling along the coastal road. No logos. No plates.
Alaska's heartbeat slowed not in calm, but in precision.
A killer's pulse.
"They're here," he said quietly.
Alana stood behind him, hands clenched. Fear tried to choke her, but she held herself tall.
Alaska turned to her one last time.
"If anything goes wrong…"
"It won't," she cut in, voice trembling but determined. "Because you promised you'd come back to me."
His eyes softened just for a breath. Then he kissed her. Not gentle. Not hesitant.
A fierce, anchoring kiss like he was stamping his soul into hers before stepping into war.
When he pulled away, he whispered against her lips:
"For you… I'll survive."
He stepped out into the growing twilight, shadows swallowing him whole.
Alana's hand hovered over the ring, heart racing. She stayed near the screens, eyes fixed, refusing to blink.
The storm had arrived.
And this time… it wasn't going to be quiet.