Her hugs reminded me of Mom.
Lucas was the rock I stood upon, but as he gave more information, the rock crumbled. We held each other with brutal force, leaving behind fingerprint bruises. The fear of loss sharpened, like a knife poised at our throats, caressing while it cut. I sensed it every time we touched, with each deep look into each other’s eyes…
The end drew near.
A heavy snow fell in late January. Trapped for days, Lucas assured me no missions would take place in such weather.
“Sometimes I think I’d sacrifice myself if it meant ending this war,” I whispered to him as we lay under cover of darkness.
His fingers danced absently over my skin. “I’d sacrifice ending this war if it meant saving you.”
I turned toward him, but his eyes were closed, as if that admission wasn’t shocking. He’d just said I mattered more to him than anything else. How could he say that like it was nothing?
His fingers moved.
Down. Right. Curve. Curve. Diagonal.
Always the same pattern, seemingly random, but my heart thudded as I connected the motions to familiar symbols.
These touches weren’t absent at all.
They were letters.
L-U-C-A-S-S-C-O-T-T
He… He was signing his name on my skin.
Thrills of electricity shot down my nerves, chased by warmth. How long had he been doing this? I replayed the dozens of times he’d touched me like this. When had it started? When had he grown possessive enough to sign his longing into my skin?
Why did I love it so much?
The NAO thought women a subspecies, and living under that regime made me crave independence above all. I never thought I’d want a possessive man, but there I was,needingto be possessed by him. I wanted to be his on a deep, biological level. It was a basic instinct of survival.
Stay with him. He loves you more than himself. He will keep you safe.
The world had gone mad.
Darkness reigned over us.
But the connection between me and Lucas glowed, a tenuous light of hope. As his fingers traced his name across my skin, I wished those letters could be seen, that some part of him could mark me permanently.
Because I feared—Iknew—the light wouldn’t last. Hope never amounted to anything, and he walked the fine edge of a knife that grew thinner every day. Eventually, he’d fall, the slice fatal.
I scooted closer, nipping his shoulder. My hand pressed over his heart. “Can I have this?”
A tiny smile materialized as he nodded. “Whatever’s left of it.”
I kissed his chest. “It’s all in there. Maybe a little damaged, but I can fix it.”
“I’m sure you’re stubborn enough to try.”
We fell asleep wrapped in each other, and the next morning, I floated in the nebulous world between sleep and consciousness. He played with my hand, his finger dragging over each of mine, from knuckle to tip. At my middle finger, he paused, and something caught around it.
I blinked my eyes open as he slid a gold band onto it. His sister’s ring. He twisted it twice before meeting my eyes.
“You wanna wear that for me?” His voice was husky from sleep.
I melted into the earnest desire in his eyes. “For how long?”
