Page 139 of Hunted to Be Mine
“I did ask.” His mouth curved against mine. “You just weren’t paying attention.”
“You sneak-attacked me with jewelry while I was philosophizing about winter solstice and observing the sunset.”
“Tactical advantage.”
“Unfair advantage.”
“Counts anyway.”
I shook my head, but couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop the joy bubbling up inside me. “You’re impossible.”
“You said yes.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“You’re wearing it.” His fingers traced up my arm, leaving heat in their wake. “That’s a yes.”
He was right. I was wearing it. And I had no intention of taking it off. Ever.
“Fine. But for the record, this is the strangest proposal in the history of proposals.”
“We’re not exactly conventional.”
“No.” I reached up, threading my fingers through his hair, pulling him down to me. “We’re really not.”
His mouth met mine, and this kiss was different from all the others. Not desperate. Not clinging. Not born from fear or relief or the terror of almost losing each other.
This kiss was a promise.
His touch was mindful of my cast, gentle with my healing body, but the tenderness made my breath catch. Made tears prick at my eyes. Made me feel cherished in a way I’d never allowed myself to want before.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, both smiling, the world outside had gone fully black. Only our reflection remained in the glass: two shadows merged into one, backlit by the flames.
“After the darkest day, the illumination returns.”
“Gradually.” He kissed the corner of my mouth.
“Inevitably.” I kissed him back, tasting the smile on his lips.
And for now, for this stolen moment of peace, this gift of time that winter had given us, that was everything.
Chapter 33
Blackout
Cold. So goddamn cold. First thing I felt. Not pain. Not yet. Just cold that burned.
Water sloshed around me, dragging me back to consciousness in pieces. I was lying half-submerged in what… a tunnel? Couldn’t tell. Too dark. Too confused.
Something was wrong with my head. Thoughts came scattered, fragmented. Blood trickled into my left eye. Couldn’t wipe it away. Arms too heavy. Hands numb.
Return to base.
The command surfaced in my mind, automatic and insistent.
No. Evade capture.
Both directives fought for dominance, creating a spike of pain behind my eyes.
