“I’m mad at whoever’s doing this to you.” The words came out rougher than intended. He forced his breathing to slow. “And I’m worried.”
Everything she was carrying—the fear, the weight of secrets, the bone-deep exhaustion—it was all there in her eyes. Raw and exposed.
Something inside him released, and without thinking, he pulled her against himself. Hands firm on her back, holding her as if she might dissolve if he let go. She went rigid for a heartbeat, then melted into him, breath warm against his neck.
Safe. For just this moment, she was safe.
He pulled back—not far, just enough to rest his forehead against hers. “We’re gonna be okay.” His whispered words might have been more for himself than for her.
“How do you know that?” Nimue’s breath dusted across his lips. Voice soft, trembling. Those dark eyes searched his face, amber flecks catching afternoon light.
Close. Too close.Every nerve in his body hummed with awareness of her—the way she fit against him, the slight part of her lips, the trust shining in her eyes despite everything.
“Do you trust me?”
She blinked. Weighing. Deciding.
The world narrowed to this—her and him and the space between heartbeats. Not the Bratva or his job or the canyon walls pressing in around them. Just…this.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth.
His chest ached with wanting—wanting to kiss her, protect her, and when she was finally safe, a reason to stay. But he wouldn’t push. Wouldn’t take what she wasn’t ready to give.
“Do you trust me?” The question came out rougher this time.
Nimue tilted her head. The barest brush of her lips against his—soft, hesitant. More question than answer, but he’d take it for what it was, a test. She was reaching out and he was right here, all in for it.
He kissed her back. Deliberate. Gentle. Just a promise—I’m here; you can count on me. But the warmth of her mouth, the way she leaned into him…It undid every good intention he’d ever had.
He lingered, savoring the connection, the trust she offered him.
Her fingers found the hair at his nape. Tentative at first, then firmer, pulling him closer. The touch sent a sudden, deep longing through him, and he fought to keep his kiss gentle and not dive in with the sudden rush of feelings.
Then her breath caught—tiny moan escaping, barely audible but a sound that nearly drove him to his knees. He deepened the kiss, a quiet plea for her to stay, to choose him, to trust him when her world was crumbling.
She responded as if she’d been waiting for permission. Fingers tightening in his hair, body shifting closer, matching his hunger with her own.
He pulled her fully into his arms—careful but sure. One hand sliding to her back, the other cradling her neck. The kiss grew urgent, desperate. A release of every fear and hope they’d both been carrying.
Her running from the Bratva. Him chasing a future he hadn’t dared dream of since Christiana.
Her lips were soft, warm, tasting faintly of mint ChapStick and something uniquely her. He lost himself in the way she fit against him—like she’d always belonged there.
Each moment stretched, heavy with the promise of something real, something worth fighting for.
They parted slowly, breaths mingling, foreheads touching. His heart hammered against his ribs. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his, and he saw in them the same longing. Same vulnerability.
“Whether you trust me or not—I’m here.” The words scraped his throat raw. “You can count on me.”
He stood before he did something stupid. Like forget they were running for their lives and lose himself in round two.
She needed safety first.
A faint wisp of smoke curling up from the canyon floor ahead snagged his attention. His gut twisted. Could be those teens. Could be other reckless campers.
The ranger in him wanted to investigate. Wrong direction though—away from where they needed to go.
One look at Nimue—face smudged with dirt, eyes wide with trust and fear—and everything else faded, the moment turning clear. Sharp. Final.