Page 9 of His Lost Mate

The woman trudging beside him, limping slightly but refusing to complain, had dragged his father’s death back to the forefront of his mind. Her story was too coincidental: a sabotaged mission, shadowy forces hunting her, and a connection to cutting-edge technology that was valuable enough to kill for. He couldn’t ignore the gnawing fear that whatever had taken his father’s life was tied to the danger Phoebe was in.

“Your silence is a little unnerving,” Phoebe said, her voice breaking the quiet. She was watching him carefully, her eyes glinting in the light.

Jonah gave her a sideways glance. “We’re being hunted.” He stopped abruptly, turning to face her. Weariness was etched into her features. Seeing it there sparked something deep inside him. “Forgive me for not making small talk.” His voice was low, edged with a dominance that made her hesitate.

“I’m asking because you’ve been glaring at the ground like it insulted you,” Phoebe shot back, though her voice had softened. “If there’s something I should know, say it.”

Jonah considered her for a long moment, then shook his head. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“That’s not an answer,” she said, folding her arms.

Jonah’s lips twitched in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You want an answer? Fine. People like you” —he gestured vaguely toward her jacket and whatever secrets she was hiding—“don’t wander into my world without consequences. I’ve paid for those consequences before.”

Phoebe laid her hand on his arm, her snarky retort stalled. “I’ve brought back bad memories, haven’t I?”

His eyes narrowed. “You don’t need to know anything about that.”

“Maybe not, but I know that look,” she said, her voice softer now. “Like you’re carrying something you don’t know how to put down.”

Jonah could feel his heart constrict in his chest. He turned away abruptly, his hands flexing into fists before relaxing again. “We need to keep moving. The sun’s going down, but they’re not going to stop just because it’s dark.”

Phoebe didn’t push him further, though he could feel her watching him as they continued.

The chill in the air was biting, seeping through the thick coat Jonah had shrugged out of and draped around Phoebe. They found the cave just as the sun dipped below the horizon and the temperature plummeted. The entrance was narrow, concealed by a dense cluster of trees, and Jonah had to stoop to step inside. He swept his flashlight across the interior—a shallow, dry space with enough room for both of them, a ventilation shaft through the roof, but not much else.

“It’ll do,” he said curtly, stepping aside to let Phoebe in.

She ducked under the low entrance, her breath visible in the frigid air. “Cozy, but the atmosphere isn’t much,” she muttered, lowering herself carefully onto the rocky floor.

“It’s not supposed to be,” Jonah replied, making her stand before layering moss and branches for her to sit on with her back to the far wall. He quickly knelt to make a fire ring and lit a small fire in the center of the space. He knew there was danger in making a fire—the smell and smoke could be detected for miles, but felt it was far more important for them to keep warmand dry. The flames sprang to life quickly, casting a warm glow against the stone walls. “We’ll rest for a few hours, get you warm and then move again.”

Phoebe nodded, her hands rubbing absently at her arms. She looked smaller here in the dim light, the exhaustion in her posture stripping away some of the defiance she’d carried earlier. Jonah’s eyes lingered on her a moment too long, catching the way the firelight reflected in her eyes, making her look vulnerable in a way that tugged at something primal inside him.

“Try and get some sleep,” he rumbled at her. He wanted to offer comfort, but he also wanted her to obey him without a lot of questions. “I’ll keep watch.”

Phoebe’s lips quirked into a faint smile, though it was more wry than amused. “What, no sarcastic remark about how I’d slow us down if I don’t?”

“Not tonight,” he replied, his tone quiet.

She stared at him and it seemed as if something unspoken passing between them. Then she lay down, curling onto her side with his jacket pulled tightly around her. Jonah forced himself to look away, focusing on the fire and the distant sounds of the forest outside.

Minutes ticked by, the cave silent save for the crackle of the fire and Phoebe’s soft, uneven breaths. Jonah’s thoughts churned, the lines between his father’s death and Phoebe’s predicament tangling into a web he couldn’t untangle.

“I know you’re still thinking,” Phoebe’s voice broke the silence, startling him. She didn’t move, her eyes still closed. “You can’t even sit still.”

Jonah leaned back against the wall, his arms resting on his bent knees. “It’s my job to think.”

“It’s exhausting to watch,” she murmured, her voice softer now. “What is it you’re so afraid of?”

Jonah’s jaw tightened. “Afraid isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Fine,” she said, cracking one eye open to look at him. “What is it you’re trying to protect me from? Because it feels like more than just the people hunting us.”

His breath caught before he turned his gaze to the fire, the heat licking against his skin. “You remind me of something—someone—I couldn’t protect,” he admitted, his voice low.

Phoebe didn’t respond right away, but when she did, her voice was softer than he’d expected. “Hopefully for me, maybe this time, with my help, we can get it right.”

Jonah’s gaze snapped to her, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. Her eyes were locked on his, vulnerability mixing with a strength that made his throat tighten. She wasn’t backing down, wasn’t hiding the fear or weariness he knew she felt. And that made her all the more dangerous—to both of them.

---