Page 48 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
The rustle of sheets at 12:42. A soft sigh at 1:17. Mattress springs adjusting at 2:03 when she rolled over.
I check my watch again: 3:17 AM.
My senses have narrowed to a laser focus on that bedroom door. In Afghanistan, I once maintained a sniper position for forty-three hours without sleep. This vigil feels infinitely more demanding.
The soft pad of bare feet against hardwood breaks the silence. My hand twitches toward my weapon before I register that the footsteps are too light for an intruder. The bathroom door clicks shut. Water runs.
A thud followed by a muffled, "Shit."
Every muscle in my body tenses. My hand is on the door handle before I realize I've moved. I force myself to step back, jaw clenched so tight my teeth might crack.
She stubbed her toe. She's not being attacked. Stand down.
I exhale slowly, counting backward from ten. This reaction isn't protocol. This isn't me. I've guarded high-value targets before without this kind of response to their every movement.
The bathroom door opens. Her footsteps pause. She's standing in the bedroom, perhaps wondering if I heard her. I remain perfectly still, eyes fixed on the wall opposite me.
She returns to the bed and I hear the mattress adjust.
My shoulders drop a fraction of an inch.
Something about her presence in my space feels like an invasion, not of security, but of the careful isolation I've constructed. A pink toothbrush now sits beside mine in the bathroom. The faint coconut scent lingering in the air. Evidence of another human existing within my controlled environment.
I think about the sensation of her body pressed against mine as we rode the motorcycle. The way she clung to my back, face pressed between my shoulder blades. How her body trembled after the attack, not with fear, but with adrenaline.
I tap Kade's contact and activate the secure video connection, keeping the volume low. The screen illuminates with soft blue light, casting angular shadows across the living room. I position myself against the blank wall, habit causing me to reveal as little of my personal space as possible.
Kade's face appears, hair disheveled, eyes heavy with interrupted sleep. The lighting suggests he's in his bedroom.
"This better be important, Frost." His voice carries the gravel of someone recently awakened.
"I have Echo. We're secure." My voice remains controlled, giving nothing away beyond the essential facts.
Kade's expression transforms, sleep vanishing as his eyes sharpen with sudden focus. He studies the background behind me, brows drawing together.
"You're at your place?"
Before I can respond, a female voice sounds from Kade's end of the call.
"Who's calling at this hour?"
Every muscle in my body goes rigid. Alina Bennett, Kade's journalist girlfriend. And the newest addition to our team.
"Sorry for the disruption, Hellcat." My words are directed past Kade, acknowledging her presence.
Alina's face appears beside Kade's on the screen. Her hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders, and her clear green eyes study me with the penetrating gaze that's made her one of the most respected investigative journalists in the country.
"Did you finally bring a woman home, Frost?"
The question lands like a tactical strike, precise and devastating. My face remains impassive, but something in my chest constricts.
"Asset protection protocol." I keep my voice flat. "Her location was compromised."
Alina's eyebrow raises slightly. "Of course. Just protection."
Kade shifts slightly, his arm moving around Alina's shoulders. "Where's your asset now?"
"Secure. My bedroom." The words feel strange leaving my mouth.
