Page 25 of His Lost Mate

Phoebe swallowed hard, her fingers trembling slightly as she flipped the beacon over and pressed the small activation switch on the back. The device emitted a faint hum, its red light blinking steadily as it sent out its encrypted signal.

“It’s done,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jonah rose to his feet, his broad frame casting a shadow over her as he grabbed his pack. “Then we’ll need to move. I’m going out to take a quick look and then we go.”

It didn’t take him long to return. Phoebe scrambled to her feet—gripping the beacon tightly, her heart racing as she grabbed the knife Jonah had left her. Her pulse slowed slightly when his broad silhouette appeared at the cave entrance, scanning the interior before landing on her.

Phoebe exhaled shakily, lowering the knife. “You took longer than I thought.”

“Sorry about that. I got waylaid by some of our friends,” Jonah replied, stepping inside. His movements were deliberate, his shoulders tight with lingering tension. He held up a small pack, his lips curving faintly. “I helped myself to their supplies.”

Phoebe’s brows lifted as Jonah tossed her a couple of protein bars. “Stealing from the enemy now?”

“Better than starving. If your friends don’t come for us, these can help us get to safety,” Jonah said, his tone dry as he settled beside her.

“Is the trail clear?” Phoebe asked finally, her voice quiet.

Jonah nodded, brushing crumbs from his hands. “For now. But they’re close. We don’t have much time.”

Phoebe’s grip on the protein bar tightened, listening to his words. “Do you think the beacon will work? Will they even come?”

“Let’s hope so,” Jonah said firmly. “But we need to keep moving. We can’t risk staying here.”

Phoebe nodded, staring at the fire, the flickering flames casting shadows across Jonah’s sharp features. He was so steady, so sure, even when the world seemed to be falling apart around them. And yet, she could feel the burden he carried—the fear he couldn’t admit, the responsibility he’d taken on without hesitation.

“I need you,” she said suddenly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Jonah’s head snapped toward her, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What?”

Phoebe swallowed hard, her throat tightening as she forced herself to hold his gaze. “I need you,” she repeated, her voice trembling. “Not just to survive. I’ve never needed anyone before, but with you... it’s different. You’re different.”

Jonah’s jaw tightened, his gaze darkening as he leaned toward her. “Phoebe?—”

“I’m scared,” she continued, her voice soft but steady. “But I trust you. And I don’t know how to do that with anyone else.”

Jonah stared at her for a long moment, his breathing slow and deliberate. Then, in one swift motion, he reached out and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her toward him. His grip was firm, commanding, but his touch sent a shiver racing down her spine.

“Don’t ever doubt how much I want you,” Jonah growled, his voice low and rough. “But this—us—isn’t just about what I want. You’re mine, Phoebe. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

Before she could respond, his lips crashed against hers, fierce and urgent. The kiss was primitive, filled with everything they’d been through, every emotion they’d fought to suppress. Phoebe melted into him, her hands clutching at his shoulders as the heat between them burned away the cold fear clinging to her.

Jonah pulled her closer, his fingers threading through her hair as he deepened the kiss. She felt the tension in his body, the raw power he carried so effortlessly, and it only made her hold onto him tighter.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless. Jonah stroked her cheek with his knuckles, his voice a low rumble. “We’re going to get out of this,” he said, his tone serious.

Phoebe nodded as she steadied herself. “I know.”

Jonah pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before pulling back. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice firm. “We’ve got miles to go before we sleep.”

Phoebe followed him toward the cave entrance, her heart racing as she braced herself for whatever came next. She didn’t know how this would end, but she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t alone anymore.

11

PHOEBE

The forest was alive with sound—the snap of twigs underfoot, the sharp, tense breathing of their assailants, and the faint rustle of branches as Phoebe and Jonah pressed their backs against a tree. The group tracking them had closed in, leaving little room to maneuver. Phoebe’s pulse thundered in her ears, her grip tight on the knife Jonah had handed her earlier.

“They’re spreading out,” Jonah murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine despite the danger.

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