Page 6 of Beckoning Liam

Becks' heart beat in her chest like a wild storm at sea, a thundering beat that matched the sound of their footsteps as they made their escape. There was a smell of danger—a sharp, acrid tang that stung her nostrils—the bite of sweat and adrenaline, primal and raw, mingling with the sharp night air, and each shadow seemed heavy with malice and threat. Liam's grip on her arm was like an iron shackle as he dragged her through the campus, using buildings and shadows for cover with a predator's skill and grace.

"Left, now!" His voice was a low growl, but commanding obedience.

They took a hard turn, nearly colliding as the echo of footsteps chased after them like hungry wolves. They might have stalled the hunt of whomever was after them by exiting through the side door, but there had been more assailants waiting for them and were now in full pursuit.

"Who are they?" Becks gasped, the question burning in her chest as they ducked behind a row of dustbins.

"Doesn't matter. We need to shake them off." Liam's eyes were steely blue coals in the dark, scanning for a way out.

They moved again, this time like the shadows in which they hid. The tension between them was electric, a connection forged in adrenaline, fear and the scene they’d shared. Becks noted the controlled power in his movements, the same dominance he had exuded when he’d bound her to the St. Andrew’s Cross and had whispered commands and praise. That same voice and control was now repurposed for survival.

Liam's phone, a secure line to Cerberus, appeared in his hand as if conjured. Hitting the emergency button, he said, "O'Shea here, two tails on us. Need an immediate reroute."

A disembodied voice crackled through. "Got it. Head to safe house. Transport will be waiting for you in a stand of trees at the southern edge of the university. Both HQ and Ashworth's flat have been compromised. We’ll try and create a diversion so you can get away clean."

"Coordinates?" Liam pressed, his thumb hovering over the screen.

"Sending now. Stay dark until there."

"Understood." He ended the call and pocketed the device before turning to Becks, a new plan already forming in his gaze. "We're heading to the coast."

"Is it safe?" Her eyes searched his for reassurance, the scholar within her grappling with the harsh intrusion of reality into her world of texts and translations.

"Safer than here," he said, reassuringly.

As they resumed their escape, Liam's proximity was a paradoxical comfort. His presence was both a shield and a reminder of the peril she found herself in.

"Will we make it?" There was a tremble in her voice she couldn't hide, betraying her fear.

"We will." His assurance was absolute, the alpha within unfazed by the chaos. Becks knew then that whether in the quietof her office or the chaos of their current predicament, Liam was the master of his domain, unyielding and in control.

As they darted from cover to cover, the city’s cacophony faded into a distant hum, replaced by the thrumming pulse of their intermingled breath and the rush of blood in their ears. With every step, with every narrow evasion of those hunting them, the line between her and her protector, between safety and peril, blurred into a heady, dangerous dance that Becks could not seem to resist.

Becks followed Liam through the trees, her pulse thrumming as the SUV came into view beneath a camo net. He pulled it off with a swift motion, glancing over his shoulder before keying in the entry code and holding the door for her.

“Get in,” he said, voice low and calm.

She slid into the passenger seat, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest as he closed the door, stuffed the netting behind the front seat, and went around to the driver’s side, settling behind the wheel. The door clicked shut, sealing them in the tight space, his presence impossible to ignore.

“Seatbelt, Becks,” Liam murmured.

Her heart skipped a few beats, but she fastened it without a word.

“Good girl,” he murmured, sending a shiver down her spine.

They rolled onto the road, Liam’s hands steady on the wheel, every movement deliberate and in control. Becks shifted in her seat, tension thick between them.

“You trust this route?” she asked.

He shot her a glance, full of heat. “I trust my team.”

Her breath caught, and she turned toward the window, but the tension lingered like a promise waiting to be fulfilled.

By the time they reached the safe house in Hastings, the silence between them felt heavier than any words. Liam killed the engine, his dark gaze locking on hers for a beat too long.

“We’re here,” he said quietly, and Becks knew the real journey had only just begun.

The coastal winds whipped fiercely around the isolated safe house as Becks stepped through its threshold, her body still humming with adrenaline. The past hours had unraveled like the plot of a spy thriller, yet there she stood, the protagonist in a tale that refused to confine itself to the pages of her beloved books.

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