Page 45 of Ronan

“Of course I do! And do you know what I’d do if I stumbled across an abandoned van?”

“You’d steal it,” I mutter, and he nods with a satisfied smile.

“I’d steal it.”

Unconvinced, I glance around the camp. A sly smirk spreads across his face as he leans into my body, wrapping his hands around my neck and dragging his fingertips across my nape. “Let’s bring it in here, and if tomorrow comes and you still think it’s better off outside the gates, we’ll discuss it further. But right now, do you know what I want?” I grunt my response, incapable of answering while he’s touching me like this. “I want to take advantage of the running water and get a shower, then climb into an actual bed and sleep for the next twelve hours.”

My body sags at the thought, desperate for some rest. Cameron tugs me closer, and my hands land on his waist of their own accord. “Please?” he pouts in a whisper, and I scowl at his sweet bottom lip sticking out.

“You cannot just get whatever you want from me by begging.”

A tiny smile tugs on his lips. “Is that a dare?”

“It’s a fact,” I tell him with a stern glare.

“Hmm,” he hums, completely unconvinced. “We’ll see about that.” He releases me and heads back towards the gate, twisting to look at me over his shoulder. “Coming?” My chest rises and falls in a deep breath as I curse to myself, jogging to catch up.

Chapter 15

Cameron

“Oh, my gods,” I whisper in giddy awe, watching the pitiful stream plunk from the showerhead. Without power, the well won’t function, but the large water tank in the center of town gravity feeds the pipes in its absence. A loud, delighted laugh bursts from my throat as the rusty color clears from the chilly water. “It works! The shower works!”

Manic grin on my face, I dart into the bedroom where Ronan stands, muttering to himself as he sorts through supplies. Despite his exhaustion, he went straight to work, determining what to keep close and what to leave in the van. He rattled on and on, rambling about our need to have the vehicle stocked for a quick getaway. Piles on the floor and dresser grow as he tosses stuff on top, and Boomerang sprawls in a chair behind him.

Domestication is a captivating sight on him, and I stare at the careful way he folds clothes and divides food. A few strands of dark hair hang over his face, his lip caught adorably between his teeth. My heart skips, fluttering in my chest as he glances up at me with a soft, pleased smile. Idevour those smiles—hungry for more as he relaxes around me.

“That’s great. You need it after the day we’ve had.” There’s no sarcasm behind his words, and I’m too exhausted to add my own to the mix. “Take advantage of it and get washed up while I make sure the bed is clean.”

I’m too tired to argue, too tired to even think about what I’m doing as I rush forward and wrap my arms around his waist, burying my face in his chest. He tenses for a moment before his muscles relax, and he tosses the clothes he was holding aside as he wraps me up in a hug. “Are you alright?” he asks, his lips ghosting over my hair. “Today has been a lot.”

“I will be,” I whisper, because that’s always the case, isn’t it?

Strong when I need to be, and always on guard.

Except… maybe with him that isn’t entirely true.

I’m deep in my head as I release him and offer a wobbly smile, retreating into the bathroom to gather my thoughts. The water pressure has increased from a trickle to a steady stream. Air bubbles rattle the pipes occasionally, trapped inside from going so long without being used.

Clean running water is an indulgence after years spent bathing in creeks, even with the chilly temperature. Goosebumps rise across my limbs as I tilt my head up, letting the water run over my hair. A closet in the bathroom was loaded up with supplies, and I feel like fucking royalty as I scrub the lavender and pine soap over my skin.

My lungs fill with a deep breath as I allow myself to process everything that’s happened over the past few days. When Ronan originally told me about the marks, I almost laughed in his face. Some mythical power binding us, fatingus to be together? Fairy tale is a generous term for that fantasy, and I renounced it out of pure spite. That nonsense is meant for someone who has the luxury of believing they have a happy ending.

But as much as I tried to deny the pull between us, our connection is proving stronger than my fears. He risked his life, pulled me from that prison, killed a man who had been in his life for gods know how long… all for me.

He’ll just leave you,that little voice inside my head argues.When he figures out you aren’t worth it, how fucking broken you are, he’ll walk away, too.

And for the first time in my life, another voice echoes its quiet response.

But what if he doesn’t?

What if there’s more between us than I’ve been willing to admit before now? What if he actually supports his words with actions andstays?

What if he doesn’t go?

Heat builds in my gut and spreads, purring its approval at the thought. It’s a tingle that warms me all the way to my fingertips and toes, despite the icy water pouring over my head. The fear is still there, iron-clad and woven into my very being, warning me that he has the power to hurt me, too.

All it would take would be for him to walk away.

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