Page 35 of The Knight

She shook her head. The situation was impossible. “How are we going to do that? They’ll have people at the airport, the ports?—”

“We’re not going by standard transport.”

“Oh, okay.” She rolled the glass in her hand. Her muscles felt looser, relaxed for the first time in days. Weeks even. Asta should market this stuff. “Is this what you always do? Solve insurmountable problems?”

The crackling fire cast dancing shadows across his rugged features as he leaned closer. “It’s in my blood. Always has been.” His calloused hand cupped her knee, his touch burning through the denim. “I swear to you, we’ll put an end to this nightmare.”

She gazed into the hypnotic flames, trying to quell the storm raging in her belly. Butterflies? No, this was a hurricane of sensation. His mere presence scrambled her senses, clouding her judgment with an intoxicating mix of desire and fear. Abe was burrowing beneath her skin, infiltrating her defenses with each passing moment, and it scared her.

She believed his words. From the first moment she had laid eyes on him, he had exuded an aura of quiet confidence—a man who faced impossible odds and emerged victorious. The firelight glinted off his eyes, hinting at depths of experience she could only imagine.

“What did you do before you worked in security? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” The words felt foreign to her tongue, a deviation from her iron-clad rule of professional distance. She stared at her hands, watching as her fingers twisted together of their own accord.

“Navy SEAL.”

His words made her realize just how little she knew about the man beside her.

“A long time ago?”

“Once a SEAL, always a SEAL.” A small smile played at the corners of his mouth that made her heart do a tiny somersault.

The snap of burning wood filled the momentary silence.

“I can’t imagine what that must have been like. Putting your life on the line every day to keep people safe.”

“It’s what we do.” His shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly, his words resonating with a quiet pride and unwavering conviction.

“I know. Just. It’s a lot, isn’t it?”God.What she was saying sounded so inadequate.

He nodded, his gaze growing distant. The firelight illuminated something raw and haunted in his eyes. “It is.”

There was more, but he wasn’t ready to share. She got that. The safety of keeping yourself closed off just to get through the day.

Yet sitting here, in the glow of this cozy room with this man who carried the weight of unseen battles, she sensed fresh fractures in her own carefully constructed armor. What would it be like to lower her guard, to let him see beyond what she presented to the world?

“Abe—” Her words were cut off by a loud snore.

Moose, now curled on Asta’s lap, stretched lazily, letting out another snorting wheeze before resuming heavy snoring.

“It’s the goddamn cat.” Abe gave a soft laugh.

Freya giggled. “Asta’s out cold too.”

“That schnapps is quite the nightcap.” His smile widened.

Freya stared at her own glass.Did I just giggle? “It’s potent stuff.”

“What about you? Were you always into science?”

The unexpected question made her look up, meeting his gaze. Most people didn’t ask about her personal life—it was always work, science, the latest research. But there was something in his expression, a genuine curiosity that made her feel safe. Like she could tell him anything, and he’d understand.

“I’ve always loved science, the rules, the formulas, but my life wasn’t always as organized as it is now. Once it was chaotic.” She hesitated, feeling a weariness tug at her, but for the first time she wanted to share. It didn’t feel like exposing a vulnerability; it felt like deepening a connection. “My mother fell apart when my dad died. She had a complete breakdown. I was eight.”

She inhaled a shaky breath.

He hadn’t moved his hand. It still rested on her knee. A part of her was terrified to let him any closer, but she craved his touch and drew strength from it to carry on.

“My mom spent her days in bed, out of it on a cocktail of psychiatric meds.” Her voice wavered and her hands balled into fists against the onslaught of memories.

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