Katrina's POV

Katrina lay against Jon's chest, her body exhausted, her mind shaken.

The fire they had built crackled softly, casting warm golden light over the snow-covered ruins. Jon's arms were wrapped around her, solid and steady, his warmth the only thing grounding her after everything that had just happened.

She could still feel it—the remnants of her father inside her. The echoes of his whispers, the suffocating weight of his control.

She had been trapped, locked inside her own mind while he wore her, moved her, spoke through her.

And she had felt everything.

Every time Jon looked at her with suspicion.

Every time Arya and Reynolds had spoken near her.

Every time she had tried to scream for them, but no sound came.

She had been nothing but a passenger in her own body.

And she never wanted to feel that again.

Jon's fingers ran through her hair, slow and careful, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear.

"You're safe now," he murmured.

Katrina swallowed, pressing her face against his chest. "Am I?"

Jon's grip on her tightened. "Yes."

She wanted to believe him.

She really, really did.

But the memory of her father's voice still clawed at the edges of her mind, taunting her, reminding her that he wasn't gone yet.

Jon must have felt her tense, because he pulled back slightly, tilting her chin up to look at him. His dark eyes were gentle, but there was something fierce beneath them—something determined.

"You fought him," Jon said. "You won."

Katrina let out a shaky breath. "For now."

Jon frowned. "What do you mean?"

She hesitated, her fingers tightening against his cloak.

"I saw something," she admitted. "When I was trapped."

Jon didn't speak—just waited, his thumb brushing circles against her skin.

Katrina took a deep breath. "While I was inside my own mind, I wasn't just stuck there. I could see things. Pieces of my father. Fragments of his past. I don't know if he meant for me to witness it, or if it was just because he was so connected to me, but I saw something important."

Jon's brow furrowed. "What did you see?"

Katrina swallowed hard, forcing herself to remember.

It had been buried deep, hidden beneath all his cruelty, all his manipulation—

But there had been one memory, one moment, that had stood out.

A room.

A small, dark chamber, deep beneath the ruins.

And inside it—

An altar.

And a sacrifice.

Katrina shivered.

"He isn't just bound to the First Shadow ruins," she whispered. "He's bound to something specific inside them. Something he did when he was still alive." She exhaled sharply. "He sacrificed someone."

Jon's expression darkened. "Who?"

Katrina shook her head. "I don't know. But I know it was important. It was the final piece he needed to anchor himself here—his soul, his power, everything." She swallowed hard. "If we destroy whatever's left of that connection, we destroy him."

Jon's grip on her tightened. "Then that's what we do."

Katrina nodded. "Yes."

But even as she said it, fear coiled in her chest.

Because if her father had been willing to sacrifice someone else to bind himself to this world…

What if the only way to sever it required another?

What if it required her?

She didn't voice the thought. Not yet.

Because Jon was looking at her with so much trust, so much certainty, and she wasn't ready to break that.

Not yet.

Jon exhaled, pressing a kiss against her forehead. "We'll figure it out."

Katrina curled against him, clinging to the sound of his heartbeat. "I know."

Jon shifted, pulling their cloaks tighter around them, keeping her pressed close. "Get some rest," he murmured. "I've got you."

Katrina wanted to sleep.

She wanted to believe she was safe.

But she wasn't sure she ever would be.

Because her father was waiting.

And this time, he wouldn't stop until one of them was gone forever.

The fire burned low in the hearth, casting flickering shadows against the stone walls. The small room was warmer than the cold air outside, but that wasn't why Katrina felt heat creeping up her skin.

It was him.

Jon.

He was standing close—closer than he usually did. Close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body even through their layers, close enough that his dark eyes held her completely, trapping her in a way that didn't feel suffocating, but safe.

Arya and Reynolds had gone out to fetch fresh water from the nearby stream, leaving them alone in the quiet.

Katrina should have been thinking about the plan. About her father. About the battle that still loomed ahead.

But all she could think about was this.

Jon. The way his jaw was clenched like he was trying to hold something back. The way his eyes flickered to her lips, then away, then back again.

The way she felt like she was burning just standing this close to him.

Jon let out a slow breath, his hands clenched at his sides, like he was still debating whether to move.

Katrina tilted her head, smirking slightly. "You keep looking at me like that, Snow."

Jon's eyes flicked to hers. "Like what?"

Katrina stepped forward, closing the space between them until their bodies were almost touching. "Like you're trying not to kiss me."

Jon's breath hitched.

Then—

Something in him broke.

He grabbed her waist, pulling her flush against him, his lips crashing against hers like he'd been waiting for this moment forever.

Katrina melted into him, threading her fingers through his dark curls, tugging him closer, deeper. His hands slid to her lower back, holding her tight, grounding her.

And gods—

Gods, she had missed this.

Missed the way he made her feel alive, missed the way he kissed her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Jon pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against hers, his breath ragged. "You scared the hell out of me," he murmured.

Katrina swallowed, her fingers still gripping his tunic. "I know."

Jon closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling sharply. "I thought I lost you."

Katrina hated that he had to feel that. Hated that he had to watch her be taken by her father, had to wonder if she was ever going to come back.

She pressed a hand to his cheek, brushing her thumb over his skin. "I came back."

Jon's dark eyes opened, locking onto hers, intense. "Don't scare me like that again."

Katrina smirked slightly, but there was softness in it. "No promises."

Jon huffed a laugh, shaking his head before pulling her back into him, kissing her slower this time, deeper. Like he was memorizing the way she felt.

Like he needed this.

Like he needed her.

Katrina let herself get lost in it, in him, in the warmth of his hands against her skin, in the way her heart pounded against her ribs like it belonged to him completely.

...

A/N: Please note, I struggle to write sex scenes in the first person so I wrote this in the third. Hope it's still okay!

Jon stood before her, his face a mask of concern. "I fear you are not ready for this," he said, his voice low and gentle.

She took a step closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need you to touch me, to make me feel alive again. Please. I need you inside of me."

Jon's eyes searched hers, and for a moment, it seemed as though he would deny her. But then, his face softened, and he reached out, his fingers brushing against her skin.

Katrina's eyes closed, a shudder running through her frame as Jon's touch ignited a spark within her.

"Fuck me, Jon," she whispered, her voice laced with desperation. "Make me forget, if only for a moment."

Jon's hesitation was palpable, but eventually, he nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.

He guided her to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. But as they lay together, Jon's touch was not the rough, possessive grasp Katrina had expected. Instead, his fingers danced across her skin, gentle and soothing.

And then, his head dipped, his lips tracing a path down her body, until he reached the apex of her thighs.

Katrina's breath caught as Jon's tongue touched her, the sensation a mix of shock and delight. She felt herself melting into his touch, the darkness that had haunted her for so long beginning to recede.

But Jon did not stop there. His lips continued their gentle exploration, kissing her thighs, her hips, and finally, the tight ring of muscle that guarded her most secret place.

Katrina's eyes flew open, a gasp escaping her lips as Jon's mouth brushed against her anus, the sensation a mix of shock and forbidden pleasure.

"By the gods," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

Jon's response was a low, husky murmur, his words lost in the depths of their passion.

His lips continued their gentle assault, kissing the tight ring of muscle, his tongue probing the crevice with delicate precision.

Katrina's body arched, her hands grasping for the tangled sheets, her mind reeling from the sheer audacity of Jon's caress.

As Jon's kisses ignited a fire that threatened to consume them both, Katrina knew that she was his, utterly and completely, her body a willing sacrifice to the flames of their passion.

And when the inferno finally subsided, leaving only smoldering embers in its wake, she smiled, knowing that she would never be the same again, that Jon had claimed her, body and soul, as his own.

Now, they would both defeat her father.