Just more effective at breaking her.
"The difference," I say quietly, pulling her closer, "is that I won't break you. Won't hurt you the way they would have. Won't force you into anything you don't ultimately want."
"You're forcing me back right now."
"To save your life. That's different."
"Is it?"
I don't answer.
Can't answer.
Because I don't know anymore.
Don't know where the line is between saving her and owning her.
Don't know if there even is a line.
Don't know if I care.
We sit in silence after that.
The fire is crackling weakly.
Her shivering gradually slows as the thermal blanket and my body heat work to bring her core temperature back up.
I hold her. Just hold her.
Feel her breathing. Feel her alive and safe and mine despite everything.
After what feels like hours but is probably only twenty-five minutes, I hear voices outside. Vehicles.
The extraction team.
Callum appears in the doorway, taking in the scene with professional assessment.
Me holding Eden. Her wrapped in the thermal blanket. The dying fire.
"Sir. Medical team is ready."
"Good. Get the vehicle as close as you can. She needs immediate attention."
"Already positioned, sir. Thirty meters out—that's as close as we could get with the terrain."
I stand, lifting Eden even with her complaints.
She's so light.
"I can walk," she says.
Her voice has no strength behind it.
"No," I say. "You can't."
I carry her outside to the waiting SUV where two medics have set up a mobile treatment station.
They work efficiently.
