Page 36 of More Than A Feeling

The streets of Aleppo were a chaotic blur. We moved swiftly, using the shadows for cover. Every step was agony, but I pushed through, driven by the will to survive.

We found temporary refuge in a partially collapsed building. Orion let me lean against a wall, his eyes scanning for threats.

"We have two clicks to go," Alpha One said.

I nodded, gritting my teeth against the pain. "Let's go."

We walked endlessly, I thought, but I knew we were making progress.

Orion adjusted the portable transmitter. "Signal's stronger. Trying to reach Viper and Rune now."

I watched him work, my thoughts drifting to Callum. He had told me he loved me, and I'd hardened my heart to that, but those words had been a lifeline for the past hours while I lay in that building, waiting for help. I'd held onto them in the darkness—onto him.

Orion's voice broke through my reverie. "I've got them. Viper, Rune, do you copy?"

The static crackled, then cleared. "Copy, Orion. What's your status?" Viper's voice was a balm to my frayed nerves.

"Mission complete. Wraith and Alpha Two have minor injuries," Orion replied.

"I got shot," Alpha Two protested.

Orion grinned, "As I said, minor. Evac coordinates are one click away."

"I have your location, we'll send a drone as backup," Rune confirmed.

I leaned back, the pain a dull throb now. "Hey, Rune, I left a message but I don't know if you got it. If I don't make it, make sure Callum knows. Tell him I love him."

"You'll tell him yourself, Wraith. We're getting you out of there," Viper snapped.

Minutes felt like hours as we walked again, but finally, the thudding of helicopter blades pierced the night.

Chapter 18

Callum

"No," I told Fleur as she looked at me militantly from the couch in her living room.

"You're not my keeper. If I want to go get a drink at Peychaud's, I will—"

"No," I repeated. "Sit your pretty little ass down on the couch. Your arm needed extensive surgery. You didn't even notice the fucking shrapnel in your thigh—"

"I knew about that," she barked.

I talked over her. "Which means I have to fucking carry you to the john every time you need it. So, no. You will not go to—"

"You don't have to carry me," Fleur yelled. "I can walk."

She stood up and swayed; then took a step and winced. She pursed her lips and took another. Right before she was about to collapse, I picked her up bridal style.

"Grian, stop being difficult and just do as I say?" I implored.

She moaned. "I hate this. I don't want this. It's been a week. I wanna get back to my life."

"If you don't rest, it's going to take longer," I warned her, then took her to her bedroom.

It had been an interesting week. My beautiful sunshine had disappeared. Apparently, when she was hurt or sick, Fleur was nothing but trouble. June had warned me of that when I'd been shocked when Fleur threw a book at me (she missed), just because I told her she had to take a pain pill and get some rest.

"The last time she got the flu, she was so weak and so angry…it was horrible. I almost left her to die," June confided in me. "The rest of the time, she's such a bright light, but when she's sick…ugh…I'd rather fuck Kid Rock than be around her."

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