Aurora hesitated, then met his gaze. “You’re changing things in my life, Nitro. I know that you have the Iron Vipers pulling their resources to hunt down the Saints. You’re crossing lines,and that might end up getting us both killed.” Her voice trembled just a little. “I know that you’ve been careful to hide your phone calls, but I can see everything that you’re doing. While I appreciate everything that you and your club are doing for me, I don’t want to be the reason you give up pieces of yourself you can’t get back.” Nitro studied her in the dim light—the fear underneath the surface of her eyes and the way she was already bracing to lose him.
“You think I’m sacrificing something to help you?” he said.
“Aren’t you?” she asked.
He reached up, brushing her hair back from her face. “Aurora, I’ve spent my whole life giving pieces of myself to people who didn’t deserve them. The government took its pound of flesh, sending me on missions for causes that I didn’t give a fuck about.” His voice softened. “This is the first time I’m choosing who I want to help.”
Her eyes filled, but she didn’t let the tears fall. “And when this is over?” she breathed. He knew that she thought she was expendable, and that broke his damn heart.
Nitro didn’t hesitate. “When this is over, I’ll be right here, standing beside you, and we’ll figure things out from there.” She searched his face as though looking for a lie, but she wouldn’t find one because there wasn’t one.
Aurora rested her forehead against his. “I don’t want to be another war you fight.”
He kissed her gently. “You’re not the war,” he said. “You’re the one that I want to fight for.” She exhaled shakily, then nodded, curling back into him like the decision had been made and her mind was set.
Nitro wrapped his arms around her, holding her through the quiet, knowing this newfound closeness would change everything. But he accepted the cost—whatever it turned out to be. Because some things were worth risking the shadows for.
AURORA
Aurora had always believedlove was the most dangerous thing a woman like her could get involved in. Love made women visible. It made them hopeful, and it made women stay when every instinct screamed at them to run. Right now, her instincts were shouting at her to leave and not look back because if she stayed, she’d end up hurting Nitro, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.
She lay awake beside Nitro; the room was washed in early-morning gray light that came through the drawn curtains. His arm felt heavy around her waist like an anchor she hadn’t realized she’d been searching for her whole life. His breathing was steady now—deep, exhausted sleep earned by men who carried too much for too long.
She watched him instead of closing her eyes. This was the part no one warned her about. Not the fear. Not the memories of every evil thing that had happened to her in the past. But the quiet after—when the walls were down, and you were left standing in the open, exposed to the possibility of being wanted for more than what you could endure.
Aurora shifted slightly, careful not to wake him. Her chest felt tight, emotions pressing in from all sides—relief, terror,warmth, and something dangerously close to peace. She hated how much she wanted it, but she knew that she had no right to feel it.
Waking up next to Nitro this morning was different. He didn’t rush her, and the way that he made sure that she was with him at every step did strange things to her heart. He wasn’t taking anything that she wasn’t willing to give to him, and that was new for her. He’d looked at her like she was a choice, not a circumstance. It was as though she mattered beyond her survival of the Saints, and that terrified her more than the men hunting her ever could.
She pressed her fingers lightly against the scars on his chest, tracing them with reverence. This man was built from damage, just like she was—but he wore his like armor, not shame. I don’t want to be another war you fight. The thought echoed again, heavy and unresolved.
Aurora eased out of his hold and padded quietly into the kitchen, wrapping herself in one of his shirts. It smelled like leather, soap, and something indefinably him. She leaned against the counter, arms folded, staring at nothing while her mind raced.
She’d let herself believe in someone to keep her safe, and that was dangerous. She stayed when every instinct inside of her told her to run. And she let herself be with a man who was dangerous to her heart—one that she could see herself loving, if that was even possible. She knew that love always came with consequences.
Footsteps sounded behind her. She stiffened, as she usually did when someone got too close. She turned to find Nitro looking sexy as sin with his hair tousled and eyes still rough with sleep. He didn’t speak at first. He just came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin against her shoulder as if he belonged there. Her heart wanted to tellher that was exactly where he belonged, but her head was more practical about things, shouting at her to tell him to leave while he still could.
“You okay?” he murmured.
She closed her eyes. “I don’t know.” He didn’t press her for answers that she wasn’t ready to give or demand clarity. He just held her.
“I’m scared,” she admitted quietly. “Not of you. Of what this means.”
His grip tightened just a fraction. “Means you’re human. And that you have good taste,” he teased, making her giggle.
She shook her head. “It means I’m attached to you, and attachments get people killed. You, of all people, should know that, Nitro.”
Nitro turned her gently until she faced him. “Aurora.” The way he said her name grounded her. “I won’t pretend this won’t cost me something,” he said calmly. “It will. But not because of you.” His thumb brushed her cheek, catching a tear she hadn’t realized had fallen. “But because this is who I am.”
Her voice cracked. “I don’t want you to lose yourself.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I already found myself. Right here, with you.” That undid her. Aurora let out a shaky breath and leaned into him, the fight draining from her muscles. She didn’t know how to love safely—but she knew how to be honest with herself.
“If this ends badly,” she whispered, “it will hurt both of us.”
Nitro smiled faintly. “Yeah, it will. So, let’s not let this end badly, or at all.”
She swallowed and nodded. “That’s a lot of pressure, but I’d still do it.”
