Page 14 of A Wolf of War
“Yeah,” he said. “But you have to see it at night, under the glow of the full moon. It’s worth it. If we run into trouble getting down, I’ll carry you.”
He said it so easily, like hauling her through the dark wilderness on his back wouldn’t even register as a challenge. It terrified and thrilled her, a twisted combination of emotion that left her shifting, thighs squeezing.
“What? A fan of the idea?” Milo was laughing now, voice low and rich, one hand steady on the wheel while the other rested on the center console between them. She said nothing, blushing deeply instead.
The music had faded into meaningless background noise, a soft blur against the roar of her pulse. Willow’s eyes kept drifting to Milo’sforearms—tanned, strong, and out in the open since he had rolled up the sleeves of his black jacket. She felt the urge to run her fingers along his exposed skin.
He turned his palm up, glancing at her again with a half-smile that made her stomach flutter dangerously. “Do you want to hold hands?”
She inhaled sharply, caught between panic and delight. Anxiety and elation. But yes, God, yes, she did. Her trembling fingers reached for his, sliding over his palm. Their hands fit together so perfectly that it made her chest ache. His warmth bled into her skin like a soothing balm, and Willow softened to the touch.
She slouched back into her seat, eyes fixed straight ahead, and let herself feel whatever was flowing through her.
The weight of his hand in hers.
And the quiet hum of the car.
And the faint scream of the stereo.
The silence stretched between them like a promise. For the first time in what felt like forever, Willow believed she could breathe easily, her vitality revived by whatever spell he had cast.
She was enchanted. Utterly and hopelessly.Bewitched? Bewizarded?
She softly laughed at how stupid the entire thing made her feel.
“What?” Milo asked, glancing over, his thumb slowly tracing circles across the top of her hand. The casually intimate motion made her breath hitch.
“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking.”
“About?”
“No, don’t worry, it’s nothing.”
“Fine, then,” he said, feigning offense with a grin. “Keep your secrets. I don’t want them anyway.”
“Good,” she shot back with an edge hovering between sass and suggestion. “Because I’m not telling you anything.”
His smile faltered, just slightly, his jaw tightening. The flicker of hunger in his eyes didn’t scare her.
It turned her on.
“I think you’ll find,” he murmured, lower, almost amused, “a man with my background knows how to get information out of people, Willow.”
He tapped the blinker, checked over his shoulder, and merged onto the off-ramp, stealing a glance at her while he did so. It was a smooth motion, and she realized she hadn’t felt unsafe once during the drive so far. Not from his driving,at least.
“Oh?” she asked, her tone light and curious. “And what kind of background is that?”
“Ex-military, for starters.”
She thought about it for a minute. “I could have guessed that. It makes sense.”
And it did. Everything about him screamed discipline and danger, from the build to the posture to the sharp, precise way he moved. He reminded Willow of her grandfather, who had once spoken of his service and never again after.
Milo didn’t offer anything else. She almost asked, but then thought better of it. Some answers came at a cost, and some doors stayed shut for a reason. She could feel the weight of whatever was locked behind his silence, and she wasn’t ignorant enough to rattle the knob. Instead, Willow let the quiet settle over them like a downy blanket, choosing to focus on the warmth of his hand, the welcome comfort it brought. It was likely safer that way, for both of them.
***
The restof the drive passed in a mutual stillness, a fleeting moment of peace that felt foreign and fragile.Their hands remained locked together. Willow could feel her palm slick with sweat by now from the heat of their contact, but she didn’t care. Somehow, she knew he wouldn’t mind, either.
