Page 7 of His Lost Mate

“Where?” he grumbled, turning and continuing up the rocky incline. “Those things don’t exactly fit in your pocket.”

“This one does. It’s part of the upgraded technology.”

“You’ve got a target on your back the size of Alaska.”

Phoebe scowled, hurrying to catch up despite the ache in her ribs. “I didn’t ask for your help, you know.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he said, his tone dry. “You wouldn’t have lasted an hour out here on your own.”

The infuriating part was she knew he was probably right. She hated feeling dependent on anyone, let alone someone as overbearing as Jonah. But she also couldn’t deny the way his confidence made her feel safer, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

“Fine,” she said tightly. “We work together until we get out of this mess. But don’t think for a second that I’m telling you everything.”

Jonah stopped again, his eyes boring into hers. “I don’t need everything,” he said quietly. “Just enough to keep us alive.”

The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine, and she almost forgot the danger they were in. He was too close, the sunlight and pine trees casting shadows across his angular features, highlighting the chiseled lines of his jaw and the faint stubble that added to his rugged appeal.

Phoebe tore her gaze away, swallowing hard. She couldn’t afford to be distracted, not now. “We should keep moving,” she said, her voice more brittle than she intended.

Jonah nodded, his expression softening just enough to let her breathe again. “This way,” he said, leading her deeper into the forest.

As they walked, Phoebe’s mind churned with questions. Who had sabotaged her mission? The list of people with access to the Ghosthawk project was short, but each possibility was more dangerous than the last. And why now? What did they stand to gain from taking her down?

“You’re thinking too hard,” Jonah said, his voice cutting through her thoughts.

She glared at his back. “And what would you suggest?”

“Focus on what’s in front of you,” he replied. “The answers will come later.”

Phoebe’s frustration boiled over. “Is that what you do? Just focus on the immediate danger and ignore everything else?”

Jonah stopped abruptly, turning to face her. “I don’t have the luxury of ignoring anything,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “But out here, thinking too much will get you killed.”

Phoebe opened her mouth to retort but stopped herself. His words, as maddening as they were, made sense. And there was something in his tone, a rawness that hinted at a past she didn’t yet understand.

“You’re hiding something, too,” she said, crossing her arms.

Jonah’s expression didn’t change, but she saw the flicker of something—guilt, maybe, or pain—in his eyes. “That’s not your concern.”

Phoebe stepped closer, emboldened by his silence. “It is if I’m putting my life in your hands.”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as if weighing how much to reveal. Finally, he said, “I’ve got my own reasons for being out here, and you’re safe with me. Leave it at that.”

His secrets were a wall between them, and she wasn’t sure if she should try to climb it or keep her distance. But as they pressed on, one thing was clear: Jonah Locke was as much a mystery as the danger hunting her. And she wasn’t sure which one scared her more.

4

JONAH

Jonah moved through the dense forest with the ease of someone who had spent a lifetime navigating its secrets. His footsteps were silent, deliberate, each one a decision calculated to keep them ahead of whoever was hunting them. The air was cold, the sun barely visible through the canopy of pines. He glanced back to check on Phoebe, who was trailing a few steps behind, her breathing labored.

“You’re slowing down,” he said, his voice low but firm.

Phoebe shot him a glare, her eyes sparking with defiance even as she stumbled over a root. “I’m fine.”

Jonah stopped abruptly, turning to face her. “You’re not fine. You’re injured, and your breathing sounds like your lungs are fighting you with every step,” he said, catching her elbow to stop her. She froze, her gaze snapping to his hand, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

Her lips parted as if to retort, but he placed his hand over her mouth, and then she heard it—voices carrying on the breeze. Her eyes widened, and Jonah could practically feel her pulse quicken beneath his grip.

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