Page 97 of Sawyer

I just fell off a cliff, yet seeing her risk her own safety to get to me makes my palms sweat.

Once upon a time, a friend told me how he knew his mate was his. It wasn’t just watching her in her element, thriving and laughing at all his little jokes, or the pleasure on her face as a pack mate found his joy in her.

It was the moment she put her life on the line for him that changed everything.

I never understood that until now.

Seeing her climb down that mountain as though she does it daily sends a spike of fear through me so sharply that I taste it on my tongue. Bitter liquid coats my taste buds, and my heart pounds so hard that my chest aches.

My eyes don’t leave her form until she jumps the last ten feet and skids before me. Her hazel eyes roll over my entire body, and her hands hover but don’t touch.

“Where are you hurt?” She reaches into a pocket and pulls out a small vial of healing potion. She’s ready to rip the cap off and shove it down my throat.

“Save it.” I push her hand away with a wince. All my adrenaline flees, and I feel the ache in my forearm. “It’s nothing major, and I’d rather hold on to any healing potions.”

Static fills the air. “Site six reporting a disturbance. Anyone hear a scream?”

We freeze. Above us, Sin slowly makes his way down.

“Site seven replying to site six. You know some animals scream, right?”

More static. “Fuck you, Jimmy.”

“Don’t waste my time on a screaming fox. Out.”

“It was me.” Sawyer blinks at me before recovering and gently reaching for my wrist. Her fingers shake as she pushes my sleeve up, her eyes glued to my arm while mine remain glued to her.

I love this woman.

Maybe I’m a bastard because it took this moment of fear for that love to solidify, but whatever the reason, I’m glad for it, because I need her, I want her, and I’m never going to give her up.

“It’s broken,” she says, her fingers dancing over the bone.

“I know.” Swallowing, I watch as her brows pinch together, and she tries to gauge just how bad a break it is.

Sin hops down behind Sawyer, skidding toward us. The rope falls to our feet, and I try not to draw Sawyer’s attention to the fact that Bryn is about to free-climb his way down because she looks far too concerned right now, and I don’t want to cause her any more stress.

“Bryn can set it.” Sin crouches on Sawyer’s other side, looking slightly green and unsure.

“He can,” I agree. Even though it is a slight break, I already feel exhaustion trying to settle in my head. “I need to know what you see behind me, Sin.”

He looks up, squinting against the bright sunlight. “From here, I see a huge lack of ground until about twenty skyscrapers that way.”

“Do you see a bridge?”

“You think there’s a fucking bridge? We are in the middle of nowhere in the zip code six-six-six!”

With a huff, Sawyer looks out, scanning to the left and then the right. “Rickety wooden bridge,” she says with a shaky voice. “I don’t like it. Anyone can see us.”

“We either follow this ridge and hope there’s a way down, then up the other side, or cut across,” I tell her. “Not to mention the rushing water I hear.”

Bryn’s about halfway down, and I’m hoping he hurries. We’re too exposed here. Even though we’re wearing dark green, any movement is too much.

Sin creeps toward the ledge, and with my good hand, I grab his ankle. He peers over before crawling back. “Rapids.”

“Thought so.”

Bryn jumps the last few feet, and with sure footing, steps close to us. “I am going to need to take your place, Sawyer,” he says.

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