Page 69 of Fired at the Heart

The words hit me like a physical blow as I remember what Raphael looked like on the ground, pale and still, not breathing. The agonizing pain that tore through me as our bond dissolved. The emptiness that followed, like a piece of my soul had been ripped away.

My breathing quickens, my hands grabbing at his shoulders.

“No, baby, it’s okay,” he soothes, pulling me closer as I start to hyperventilate. “Not for real. I’m sorry, I should have phrased this better.”

His hand strokes my hair as I struggle to control my breathing. “I meant for the sake of social media, for the public. We can have a funeral and everything. Let the world believe Raphael Rockford died in some tragic accident.”

My panic subsides, replaced by confusion. “But your family…”

“I’m not going to give up seeing them,” he explains. “But I’ll give up being a Rockford on paper and in public. I’ll change my name and create a new identity. Whatever it takes.”

I pull back to study his face, searching for any sign of doubt. “You’d walk away from your family? From everything they’ve done to clean their name?”

“For you? Yes.” His answer is immediate, without hesitation. “And I understand that you’re the boss now, Avery. I understand I’ll have to follow your orders and work under your command. But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove myself to you again.”

The weight of his words settles over me. This is Raphael Rockford, second son of one of the most powerful families in the country, offering to submit to my authority, to walk away from his birthright, to fake his own death.

All to be with me.

“You realize,” I say, a trace of amusement slipping through, “that you’ll need to beg Lena, Jace, and Rico. They’re not exactly going to throw a parade for you after what went down when you walked away the first time.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll do it. I’ll drop to my knees and plead, if that’s what it takes.”

The image of my proud Alpha on his knees before my crew almost brings on a laugh. But the sincerity in his stare stops me.

“You mean it.” Hope begins to take root. “You’d give it all up.”

“I already lost the only thing that truly mattered when I walked away from you.” He cups my cheek. “I’m not making that mistake again.”

Warmth unfurls in my chest, an emotion I’ve kept locked away for years. Trust? It’s too scary to put a name on it yet.

Raphael leans in to rest his forehead on mine. “Let me prove it to you. Let me earn back your trust.”

His lips find mine, soft and questioning, and I answer by opening to him. The kiss deepens, slow and thorough, different from the desperate clash of teeth and tongues during my Heat.

A vow.

A pledge to new beginnings.

As I slide my hand up to cup the back of his neck, a harsh, blaring sound slices through the quiet as the security alarm alerts us to someone trying to breach the safe house.

We spring apart, instantly alert despite our exhaustion. Adrenaline floods my system, washing away the pleasant soreness and lingering pleasure.

“Where’s your gun?” I demand, rolling toward the edge of the bed.

“Still in the front room with your weapons,” Raphael admits. “I didn’t want to risk you shooting me before I had a chance to win you back.”

I shake my head, equal parts exasperated and impressed by his confidence. “You still need to grovel more before you’ve won me back, Rockford.”

“I will. After we deal with this.” He reaches for his pants. “Where are the bedroom weapons stashed?”

“There’s one under the bed.” I yank on my pants with steady hands. “Strapped to the bottom of the frame.”

Raphael drops to the floor, reaching beneath the bed while I move to the nightstand, pulling it away from the wall to reveal the hidden compartment behind it. My fingers close around cold metal as the unmistakable sound of splintering wood echoes from the front room.

We’ve been infiltrated.

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