Chapter 27
Nadia
The abandoned ranger station sits ten miles off the main road, hidden by dense forest and accessible only by a rough track that barely qualifies as a path. I’d spotted it on a map when I was frantically trying to come up with a plan to get him out before it was too late. Irrational. Reckless. I’m still astonished that it worked. I guess we had the element of surprise on our side. And the fact that my teammates probably couldn’t believe that I’d do such a thing.
I fight off a swirl of guilt.
It couldn’t be helped.
At least we made sure nobody got hurt. Somehow, Jericho knew that without me having to tell him.
He cuts the engine, and we sit in silence for a moment, both of us listening for pursuit that hasn’t caught up yet.
“We need to check the building,” I say. “Make sure it’s actually abandoned.”
He nods. We exit the truck together, moving quietly through overgrown brush toward the small wooden structure. It’s old—maybe decades since anyone used it regularly. Windows are intact but dirty. The door is locked, but the lock is rusted.
Jericho breaks it with one sharp pull. Dragon strength making it look easy.
Inside: dust, old furniture, a small kitchen area with a camp stove. One room with a cot. A bathroom that probably doesn’t have running water. But it’s shelter. It’s hidden. It’s better than being exposed on the road.
“We can stay here tonight,” Jericho says. “Rest. Plan next steps.”
I nod. My body is starting to register what we just did: broke out of Aurora, fought through friends and colleagues, stole a vehicle. I’m a fugitive now. Everything I built is gone because I chose to believe him.
The weight of that choice presses down on me, but I push it away. Can’t afford to question it now.
“You’re bleeding,” I say suddenly. Notice the dark stain spreading on his left side.
He glances down. “It’s nothing.”
“Let me see.”
“Nadia—”
“Jericho.” I move closer. “Let me see.”
He sighs but lifts his shirt. There’s a gash along his ribs. Not deep but bleeding steadily. Must have happened during the fight when we broke through the vehicle bay.
“Sit down,” I say. I gesture to the old chair.
He complies. I move to the kitchen area, find some relatively clean rags, and water from our supplies. Bring them back.
Kneeling beside him, I start cleaning the wound. He tenses under my touch but doesn’t pull away.
Being this close to him is harder than I expected, especially with my wolf showing interest.
Now is not the time, dammit.
Even without the heat cycle, my wolf is insatiable.
“You should have said something,” I murmur while working.
“It’s not serious.”
“It’s deep.”
“I’ve had worse.”
