The girl’s knuckles went white on the rope.
Liam lunged, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her up against him, wrapping his arm around her waist.
She was screaming. He bent his head, clearly talking to her.
Nimue knew exactly what that felt like.
After a moment, the girl seemed to come to herself. She gripped the rope in front of Liam, and they started across again.
The other stranded teenagers hesitated, choosing their dissolving sandbar, eyes darting between Liam and the far bank. Nimue could feel their terror all the way to her bones.
“Move!” Liam’s voice cut through the water’s roar like a blade. “You’ve got this!”
Something about his confidence steadied her racing pulse. If Liam believed they could make it…
“It was narrower before.” The kid beside her stammered. “When the first group crossed.”
Of course it was. Because nothing about this day could be simple.
Liam sloshed to shore and handed off the girl to the waiting teens.
Then Liam was back in the water, a bulwark in the river. He shouted to the kids on the sandbar. “One at a time. Steady movements. You’ll be okay.”
They started across. Clumsy but determined, each teenager worked their way across the water, hand over hand, step by careful step. One by one, they reached safety, the burly kid hauling them onto solid ground.
Then Liam made his way back to her and the kid shivering beside her.
“Ready, kid?” he said, dripping wet, breathing hard. He glanced at her, but she could barely breathe.
“I can do it,” the kid said and stepped out into the river to cross, leaving just her and Liam with the roaring water between them and escape.
“Hand me your pack.”
She handed it over, fingers trembling despite her best efforts. He clipped it to the rope with a carabiner, then secured it to her belt like he was rigging her for a technical climb.
“Let the rope carry the weight.”
He checked the knot again, then met her eyes once more, gaze lingering with something that made her chest fill.
His lips pressed against her forehead. Quick. Warm. A promise.
“You’re up.”
Oh no…no…
But she gripped the rope and stepped toward the river.
The rope was sandpaper against her palms. Her mind started calculating—drowning statistics, survival rates, all the ways this could go catastrophically wrong. And somewhere behind them, the Bratva might still be hunting.
How were they supposed to get out of this?
Then Liam stepped behind her. His chest brushed her back. Solid warmth that made the world stop spinning.
“You’ve got this.” His voice rumbled against her spine. “I’m right here.”
She leaned into him for just a moment. Let his presence regulate her breathing, her hammering pulse. This trust—bone deep—she hadn’t felt since before Emberly had left.
But Liam was here. Real. Refusing to let her face this alone.