After, I stayed inside her, our bodies still joined, my forehead pressed to hers, both of us shaking.
“Five years,” I whispered, chest tight. “I’ll never waste another second.”
Her hand cupped my cheek, gentle despite the fire still in her eyes. “Then don’t.”
And for the first time in five years, I believed I wouldn’t.
47
Raine
The world was quiet when I woke.
For the first time in days—maybe years—there was no screaming storm, no gunfire, no orders crackling over comms. Just the steady rise and fall of Adam’s chest beneath my cheek, his heartbeat slow and solid under my ear.
I shifted slightly, the sheets tangled around my legs, my body still humming from the night before. Heat flushed my skin at the memory—his hands, his mouth, the way he’d said my name like it was both a curse and a prayer. Five years of distance had been burned away in a single night, leaving nothing but us.
Adam stirred, his arm tightening around me. His lips brushed my hair. “Morning, Carter.” His voice was low, still rough with sleep.
“Morning,” I whispered back, not daring to move. If I stayed perfectly still, maybe time would hold us here—just us, no missions, no enemies, no ghosts.
He tilted my chin until I met his eyes. There was no armor there, no walls, just raw truth. “I didn’t dream this, did I?”
I smiled, soft and shaky. “Not unless we’re sharing the same dream.”
He kissed me—slow this time, not desperate, not wild, but reverent. The kind of kiss that made my chest ache because it wasn’t about lust. It was about love.
“I’m not letting you go again,” he murmured against my lips.
“You better not,” I said, though my throat tightened. Because I knew the world wouldn’t make it that easy. I also knew I would never again leave Adam.
Still, for this one fragile morning, we let it. We lay tangled in each other, sunlight breaking weakly through the motel curtains, the scent of rain still clinging to the air. My fingers traced the scar along his jaw, and his hand smoothed down my back like he couldn’t stop touching me. kissing every bruise and cut he saw.
For once, there was no need for words. We’d already said everything last night—with our bodies, with our hearts.
But the knock at the door shattered the quiet.
Three sharp raps.
Adam’s head lifted, his muscles instantly tensing beneath me. “Stay here,” he said, voice turning steel again.
I clutched the sheet to my chest, watching as he pulled on his jeans and crossed the room. When he opened the door, the morning light spilled in—along with my brother.
Logan stood there, bruised jaw, split lip, his clothes wrinkled, and his eyes blazing.
“We need to talk,” he said. His voice was low, clipped. And furious.
Adam opened the door wider,and Logan stepped in without waiting for an invitation. The air in the room thickened instantly.
He looked like hell—jaw bruised, one eye swollen, dried blood crusting his lip. His shirt was half-buttoned, sleeves rolled up, knuckles raw. My stomach dropped.
“Logan—” I started, but his glare cut through me before I could say more.
His eyes locked on Adam, dark and furious. “Where the hell were you when they had my sister in the middle of a war zone?”
Adam’s shoulders stiffened. “Saving your ass, Carter. Or did you forget you were cooling off in a cell while we were bleeding on that ridge?”
Logan’s jaw flexed, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Don’t put this on me. I had a bird ready. Could’ve given you cover. Could’ve had eyes on those bastards. But no—the troopers said stand down, and you just let it happen.”
