Page 35 of Tempest

“Tempest?” Kasen’s voice, soft and hesitant, cut through my thoughts.

I met her gaze, struck by the mix of fear and something else -- a flicker of admiration? -- in her eyes. There were times I could still see the little girl I’d watched grow up, but it was always brief, overshadowed by the beautiful woman she’d become.Mywoman.

“I’m fine,” I growled, the words harsher than I intended. “It’s not over. You understand that, right?”

My gut told me this was going to come back to bite us in the ass. I didn’t know how it would happen, but I’d always relied on my instincts. And right now, they were screaming that something bad was heading our way.

Her eyes met mine, a spark of determination igniting within them. “I know,” she whispered. “But you’ll be there, won’t you?”

A silent promise formed in the tight set of my lips. I watched as she hurried toward the bikes near the two vehicles the women were loading into. Someone pointed out the bike I’d used to get here, and she climbed on, waiting patiently for me. The night’s immediate danger had passed, but this was just the beginning.

Chapter Eleven

Kasen

The door crashed open, banging against the wall. Tempest burst in, cradling me against his chest. His heartbeat thundered beneath my ear, matching the frantic rhythm of my own. He’d seemed calm enough on the plane, but now that we were alone, it felt like he’d gone into overprotective mode.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” he said, voice low and fierce.

I clung to him, inhaling the scent of leather and sweat. My body ached, but his arms were an anchor in the chaos.

Tempest strode to the couch, his movements fluid despite carrying my weight. He lowered me gently onto the cushions, his touch careful as if I might shatter.

“Are you hurt?” His eyes, usually hard as steel, lit with concern as they raked over me.

I shook my head. My throat felt raw from screaming. “You already asked.”

“Yeah, but that was before we got on the plane. That was a while ago. So now I’m asking again.”

Tempest’s hands ghosted over my arms, my legs, checking for injuries. His fingers trembled slightly, betraying the intensity of his emotions.

“Talk to me,” he demanded, cupping my face. “Where does it hurt? There’s no way you…”

I leaned into his touch, craving the warmth. “I’m okay,” I managed to whisper. “Just… shaken. All those lessons from my dad, and I couldn’t defend myself when it counted.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I should’ve gotten to you sooner. If they laid a finger on you, I swear --”

“You came,” I interrupted, surprising myself with the strength in my voice. “That’s what matters.”

Tempest’s gaze softened for a fraction of a second before the anger returned, simmering beneath the surface. He stood abruptly, pacing like a caged animal. “When we get home, we’re going to start training. I need to know if something happens again, you won’t freeze up.”

I watched him, marveling at how he could make even agitation look graceful. My heart raced, and not just from the aftermath of the rescue. Being this close to Tempest, alone, sent electricity coursing through my veins.

He turned back to me. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

The intensity of his words stole my breath. I’d dreamed of Tempest noticing me for years, but I never imagined it would be like this -- raw, primal, protective. “I know,” I whispered, meaning it with every fiber of my being.

Our gazes locked, and the world seemed to slow. The weight of what we’d just been through hung between us, heavy and charged. My chest tightened as I saw the storm of emotions in Tempest’s gaze -- relief, anger, and something deeper I couldn’t quite name.

“Kasen,” he growled, his voice low and rough. “I need to check you over properly.”

I nodded, unable to find my voice. Tempest moved with swift efficiency, retrieving a first-aid kit from a nearby cabinet. His movements were precise, practiced -- a stark contrast to the barely contained fury I could see in the set of his shoulders.

He knelt beside me, so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body. “This might sting,” he warned, his fingers gentle as he examined a scrape on my arm I hadn’t even noticed.

I hissed as he cleaned the wound, more from surprise than pain. Tempest’s touch was surprisingly tender, at odds with his intimidating presence.

“Sorry,” he muttered, his focus unwavering.

---