Page 79 of When He Hunts

Her eyes cracked open. She became aware of a faint drumming. Steady. Powerful.

His heartbeat.

She was sprawled on top of Ronan.

Embarrassment flooded through her. She began to scamper away.

One powerful arm locked around her lower back. “Stay.” Sleepy. Rumbled. “I like you this way.”

She could see the trickles of light coming through their window. In the distance, she could hear the roar of the ocean. She’d missed the sunrise. She’d catch it tomorrow. Something she’d always wanted to do. Watch the sunrise from a beach.

Something else she’d always wanted to do?

Fall in love.And she had.

She snuggled back against him. One arm stayed around her lower back. The other was stretched out to the side, reaching toward her empty pillow. The arm that stretched toward the pillow was his left arm. He’d taken off his watch at some point, and the faint light fell onto his inner wrist. She could easily see the dark lines of the snake tattoo that marked him. “Did I ever thank you for saving me?”

“Which time?” A teasing growl.

All the times.“One day, I’m going to save you.”

His heartbeat pounded beneath her head. “Unnecessary. Just watch that sweet ass of yours. Keep yourself safe.”

Her eyes were still on the snake. “Thank you for saving me from the snake in the bayou. I never even saw it coming.”

“Most people don’t see danger until it’s too late.”

“But you’re not most people, are you? I feel like you might always see danger.” Almost like he never shut off or relaxed completely. She’d noticed that about him. The way he would survey every room they entered. The way his gaze would track to each face. During their long drive, they’d stopped at a diner for a quick meal. He’d taken the booth in the back so that he could see each person who walked through the door. Always alert. Always looking for trouble.

“Danger is always there, so, yeah, I see it.”

“How did you get the tattoo?”

“Initiation.”

Surprised, she turned her head and lifted up so she could see him.

“Ronan Walker needed a beginning,” he explained.

Talking about himself in the third person.But he’d told her from the start that Ronan Walker wasn’t his real name. Just another deception.I love him, and I don’t know his real name.

“I needed to infiltrate a gang. My first undercover mission. Make or break, you know.”

She shivered.

So he pulled the covers over them. But she hadn’t been shivering from the cold. “The tattoo was part of the initiation ritual?”

“Turned out, those pricks had a very unusual initiation routine.”

Did she want to know?

“To be fully included in their gang, you had to fucking shove your hand into a tub of snakes. A key waited beneath them. The key to your new life—and, by the way, a key to the motorcycle you got when you were fully initiated.”

Her mouth opened and a little squeak came out. “You’re…no. No. A tub of snakes? You had to fish through them for a key? But—but the snakes could kill you!”

Soft laughter. “I think that might have been the point. You had to prove you weren’t afraid of dying. That the gang meant more than your life. It was also one of those situations where you only thought you had a choice. If you didn’t put your arm elbow deep in the pile of writhing, hissing, fucking snakes, then you were going to get a bullet to the brain.”

She flopped to his side.

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