Chapter 8
LOGAN
My muscles strained with each movement, sending familiar sharp pain lancing through my right side.I ignored it, as I’d done for years, grinding my teeth against the burning sensation that never fully disappeared.Tonight it seemed worse.As I loaded the last crate of evidence into the back of my truck, I paused, scanning the treeline for any sign of movement.Nothing but trees rustling in the cold mountain breeze.
Sabrina locked the clinic door.Her hands trembled slightly as she pocketed the key, and my wolf surged forward, desperate to comfort her, protect her.The intensity of that instinct shook me to my core.
“You sure about this place?”she whispered, her eyes darting toward the darkened woods surrounding Angel Spring.
“No one knows about the cabin.”I kept my voice low, though we were alone in the parking lot.“We’ll be safe there.”
What I didn’t say was how my pulse quickened at the thought of being alone with her in that isolated space.Just the two of us, with no interruptions, no prying eyes.The thought both terrified and exhilarated me.
The drive through the forest was silent.Headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the rough dirt road ahead.My wolf remained hypervigilant, catching scents my human side might miss, the musk of deer that had crossed the road hours earlier, the fresh pine sap from trees we passed, and beneath it all, the faint chemical odor that had begun to infect these woods.But overpowering everything was Sabrina’s scent, growing more intoxicating by the hour.The wolf recognized what my human side was still coming to terms with.Mate.My mate.
Beside me, Sabrina clutched her satchel of lab results against her chest like armor.I stole glances at her profile, noting the determined set of her jaw and the shadows of exhaustion beneath her eyes.
My fingers tightened around the steering wheel.Every instinct screamed at me to pull over, to wrap her in my arms until that worried crease between her eyebrows disappeared.Instead, I pressed harder on the accelerator.
The cabin appeared exactly as we’d left it.Cold, slightly musty, but secure.While most saw a rustic hideaway on the outside, I knew the truth.The windows were reinforced with bulletproof glass, a state-of-the-art security system surrounded the land, disguised as a simple wooden fence, and emergency supplies were hidden inside that could sustain us for weeks.Another refuge I’d created, another fortress to lock myself away from the world.
While Sabrina meticulously unpacked the evidence, I built a fire in the stone hearth.Orange flames licked at the dry logs, creating shadows that danced across the wooden walls as warmth slowly filled the space.
When I turned around, Sabrina sat perched on the edge of the bed, her face buried in her hands.Her shoulders slumped forward.Something in my chest constricted painfully at the sight.
“Hey,” I said softly, crossing the room before I could think better of it.She didn’t look up, but I heard her breath hitch.I hesitated for a moment before sitting beside her, the mattress dipping under our combined weight.My hand hovered awkwardly before coming to rest on her back.
“I just…” Her voice emerged muffled through her fingers.“I can’t stop thinking about Marshall, about everyone who’s sick.What if we’re too late?What if we can’t stop her?”
My hand moved in slow circles against her spine, feeling the knots of tension through her shirt.
“We will.”The certainty in my voice surprised even me.“You’re the strongest person I know.”
She lifted her head then, eyes glistening with unshed tears, and my heart twisted.“I don’t feel strong right now.”
My fingers moved of their own accord, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face.“You don’t have to be strong all the time.Not with me.”
Something shifted in the air between us, like before a storm.My wolf paced restlessly beneath my skin, whining with need.The constant pain in my side dimmed, overshadowed by a different kind of ache coiling through my body.Sabrina’s breath stopped as my hand lingered on her cheek, my thumb tracing the delicate curve of her cheekbone.Her eyes, those warm, intelligent eyes that saw through every defense I’d built, searched mine, and I felt the walls around my heart begin to crumble.
She’ll leave eventually.Everyone does.The thought flashed through my mind, a last desperate attempt at self-preservation.But looking at her now, firelight reflecting in her eyes, I couldn’t make myself believe it.
“I can’t lose you,” I murmured, the confession ripped from somewhere deep inside me.The truth of it hit me like a physical blow, stunning in its clarity.
“You won’t,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with emotion that matched the storm in my chest.
It was impossible to tell who moved first.One moment we were separated by inches of charged air, the next my arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her against me as my lips found hers.The kiss was desperate, tender, a culmination of every glance and touch we’d shared since she’d arrived in Angel Spring.Her hands clutched at my shirt, fingers twisting in the fabric as if anchoring herself to me.
The fire crackled behind us, drenching us in a golden glow as the world beyond the cabin walls ceased to exist.My hands slipped under the edge of her shirt, tracing the curve of her spine, feeling the warmth of her soft skin.Her fingers tangled in my hair, nails scraping lightly against my scalp in a way that sent shivers straight down to my loins.
When we finally broke apart, our foreheads pressed together, our breaths mingling in the space between us.My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I was certain she could feel it.
“I’ve never let anyone in like this before,” I admitted, my voice barely audible above the fire’s crackle.
Her lips turned up in a soft smile before pressing against mine again, feather-light.“Neither have I.”
We stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for what felt like hours.For now, the problems outside of this cabin ceased to exist.Firelight danced across her skin, turning it to gold, highlighting the contours of her face in a way that made my breath catch.
Sabrina’s shoulders trembled slightly, a sign of the fatigue that had been gnawing at her for hours.Even with the fire roaring in the hearth, a chill seemed to cling to her, and it wasn’t just from the cool mountain air.Her eyes shimmered with weariness, and my heart clenched at the sight.Every inch of me ached to provide her comfort and warmth.
