85
Adam
The morning sun cut across the parking lot, sharp and bright, but the men moved like shadows—efficient, silent, dangerous. My team. My family.
Raine walked beside me, every inch the soldier again. Strong. Steady. The fire in her eyes nearly undid me, but I forced myself back into commander mode. Wanting her and leading her were two different beasts, and both burned me raw.
I planted my hands on the hood of the SUV where Russ had spread his maps. The others gathered close—Hawk’s wolfish grin, Blade’s silent stare, Logan’s tight jaw,
“The San Antonio hub isn’t a clinic,” I said, my voice cutting through the morning. “It’s a research lab. Bigger. Heavily funded. Boone traced three shipments routed through there in the last month. If Dallas was a spoke, this place is a wheel.”
Russ nodded. “Location’s near the river. Easy access for transport, hard to tail without eyes on the ground.”
Hawk cracked his knuckles. “So we put eyes on the ground.”
“Not yet,” I said. “We do this clean. Infiltration. Surveillance. We pull names, faces, paper trails. Dallas gave us proof. San Antonio gives us leverage.”
Logan frowned. “And if they’re expecting us again?”
“They are,” I said flatly. “After Dallas, after the ridge? They know we’re coming. Which means they’ll either tighten security… or leave bait. Either way, we go in with teeth bared.”
Blade’s knife flashed in the sunlight as he twirled it once, then stilled. “Fine by me.”
Boone tapped the laptop, the glow painting his face. “I’ll feed you live intel, but don’t expect miracles. These bastards have better firewalls than half the Pentagon.”
I nodded. “We don’t need miracles. We need angles. And once we’re inside, we don’t miss.”
The men shifted, ready. The kind of readiness that came from years of fighting wars no one would ever know about.
Then my gaze slid to Raine. She didn’t flinch under it, didn’t look away. Her chin was high, her eyes burning steady.
God, she was beautiful. Not just in the curve of her lips or the way her hair caught the sun, but in the fire, the strength, the refusal to back down.
My chest tightened, heat burning low in my gut. She was mine. Every breath, every scar, every ounce of steel in her spine. Mine.
But out loud, all I said was: “Gear up. We roll in thirty.”
The team scattered, checking weapons, loading mags, slamming doors. Raine lingered a heartbeat longer, her hand brushing mine as she passed.
Those gray-blue eyes of mine locked on her, and for a second the war didn’t matter.
For a second, it was just us.
And that might have been the most dangerous thing of all.
86
Raine
The SUVs idled in the lot, sunlight glinting off their hoods, the smell of fuel and gun oil sharp in the air. The men moved like they’d been born for this—Hawk joking under his breath as he checked his rifle, Russ scribbling neat lines across a fresh page, Blade silent and watchful with steel flashing in his hand.
And Adam—my Adam—stood at the center, gray-blue eyes hard as stone, commanding every inch of the space. He wasn’t just leading them. He was holding them together, the anchor that made them all sharper, stronger.
God help me, it was sexy as hell.
I tightened the strap on my holster and caught him watching me. Not as a captain, not as his equal in the field—but as the woman he’d held last night, the one he’d loved long before all this. Heat curled low in my belly, my breath catching under that look.
But beneath it was steel. For both of us.
