Page 37 of Marked For A Bite
Logan didn't respond to her observation. Instead, he swung his legs out of bed, reaching for his black cargo pants and black boxers. "Get dressed. Something practical that won't restrict movement."
"Don't deflect." Zoe sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. "Talk to me, Logan. What's really bothering you?"
He paused in putting on his boxers and pants, meeting her concerned gaze. How could he explain that every instinct he possessed was screaming at him to lock her away somewhere safe? That the thought of watching her walk into danger made him want to shift and tear apart everything that threatened her?
"I'm an enforcer, Zoe. My job is to eliminate threats, not send my mate into the heart of them." He grabbed a black henley from his dresser, his movements sharp with barely contained tension. "But this prophecy, this ancient scroll—it requires your specific skills. And that doesn't sit well with me."
Zoe slipped from the bed, gloriously naked as she padded to her backpack with her clothes in it. "You can't protect me from my destiny, Logan. And you can't control every variable to guarantee my safety."
"Watch me try."
She pulled on her black leggings with quick, efficient movements. "Is that what this is about? Control? Or are you afraid I can't handle whatever we're walking into?"
Logan's jaw clenched tight as he strapped on his shoulder holster, checking his twin Glocks with practiced precision. "I've seen firsthand what happens when the people I love get caught in the crosshairs of pack politics. They end up dead."
The words hung between them like a blade, and Zoe's movements stilled. When she looked at him again, her eyes were soft with understanding.
"Your sister and father."
"They trusted me to help protect them too." Logan's voice came out rough. "And I failed."
Zoe crossed to him, fearless in her approach despite the darkness radiating from him. Her hands settled on his chest, right over his heart.
"What happened to them was not your fault." Her voice held steady conviction. "And I'm not them. I'm stronger than you think, and I'm not going into this blind. You've trained me well."
Logan covered her hands with his, the touch grounding him despite the storm raging in his mind. "Not well enough. We haven't even covered firearms yet."
"Then we stick to what I know." Zoe rose on her toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "Knives, hand-to-hand combat, and shifting if necessary."
Logan moved to his weapons cabinet, retrieving a custom leather harness he'd crafted years ago but had sat unused. The straps and sheaths were designed for a smaller frame extending from shoulder to thigh—he'd made it during a bout of insomnia when thoughts of his sister had kept him awake.
"Turn around."
Zoe obeyed, and Logan began fitting the harness over her fitted black top. The leather settled against her curves like it hadbeen made specifically for her, which in a strange way, it had been. He adjusted the straps with careful precision, ensuring the weight distribution wouldn't throw off her balance as he worked his way down her sides to her thighs.
"Two throwing knives on each thigh," he murmured, sliding the blades home in their sheaths. "Primary combat knife on your right hip. Backup on your left shoulder blade."
His fingers traced the path of each weapon as he secured them, and Zoe shivered at his touch.
"I feel like a warrior goddess."
"You look like my worst nightmare brought to life." Logan's voice held a mixture of pride and trepidation. "Promise me something."
"Anything."
"Promise me you won't try to be a hero today. We go in, get the scroll, and get out. No unnecessary risks."
Zoe turned in his arms, her hazel eyes blazing with determination. "I promise, as long as you promise me the same thing. No throwing yourself in front of danger to protect me unless it's absolutely necessary."
Logan opened his mouth to argue, but the look in her eyes stopped him. She was right—they were partners now, whether his protective instincts liked it or not.
"Deal," he said finally, sealing the promise with a brief, fierce kiss.
As they finished their preparations, Logan couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to change irrevocably. Whatever they found in that scroll would reshape not just their world, but their relationship.
He just hoped they'd both survive to see what came next.
Logan adjusted the weight of his twin Glocks in their shoulder holster as they stepped out of his cabin into the crisp autumn morning. The familiar pressure against his ribsprovided a comforting reminder of his readiness for whatever they might encounter today. His father's hunting knife, secured across his lower back, pressed against his spine with each step—a constant connection to the man who'd trained him to protect what mattered most.
