Page 69 of A Hunger Soft and Wild

She makes a small noise against my mouth, something that sends heat racing through my veins. My fingers press into her back, desperate to keep her close, tomemorizethis, just in case—

No. I shove the thought down before it can take root. Iwon’tlet her leave.

When we finally break apart, our breaths mingling in the small space between us, she looks up at me, wide-eyed, lips slightly parted.

I run my thumb along the curve of her hip. “Don’t run off, Mouse. Promise me.” My voice is rough, quieter than before.

She hesitates, biting her lip. But then, slowly, she nods.

“I promise,” she breathes.

And just like that, the tension in my chest finally eases.

I press a lingering kiss to her forehead before pulling her fully against me, arms wrapped around her like a shield. She buries her face in my shoulder, exhaling shakily, and I close my eyes.

For the first time in a long time, I let myself hold onto something.

Because she’s not running anymore.

And neither am I.

And if I have to fight a goddamn vampire clan to keep her safe, I will.

Aria

Roanholdsmelikeshe means it, like she won’t let go unless I force her to. And gods help me, I don’t want to force her to.

I close my eyes and breathe her in—smoke and steel, something earthy beneath it, something that has started to feel like home.

But we don’t have time to linger in this stolen moment.

She exhales against my temple before finally pulling back, though her hands stay firm on my waist. Her brow is drawn tight, mouth set in a way that tells me she’s already thinking ahead.

The bounty has changed everything.

The walls of this inn, this room, had started to feel safe. That was a mistake.

Her voice is steady, but there's tension beneath it. "Well, we can’t stay. Every minute we do, the risk gets higher. So let’s pack.”

I swallow, forcing my gaze to the window, imagining the streets below. "And go where? Every town within a day's ride will hear about the bounty soon enough. Running only buys us time."

"Time's the only thing keeping us alive right now," she counters, setting the blade aside. "And I'd rather have more of it."

I bite my lip. She’s right. But the weight of this chase—of dragging her into my mess—settles heavy in my chest. "You don't have to do this," I say softly.

Roan exhales sharply, shaking her head. "We’re not having that conversation again, Mouse."

I turn to face her, heart pounding. "It’s not just about me, Roan. If they realize you’re with me, if they put a price on your head too—"

"We'll be careful." She stands, slipping the knife into its sheath.

I let out a bitter laugh. "Careful? The bounty’s high enough to turn anyone’s head. And we don’t even know how many enforcers are already in this town looking for me."

Roan strides toward me, her presence as solid and steady as always. "Then we find out," she says. "We listen, we watch, we figure out what our next move is. But we don’t panic. And wedon’tseparate."

The finality in her tone leaves no room for argument.

Her expression softens, and for the first time since the kiss, she reaches out, fingertips brushing mine. "We’ll figure this out," she says, quieter now. "Together. You promised."

---