“She can still fly!” the co-pilot yells. “Get her inside—now!”
I move to lift Lena into the bird when—
A second rocket fires.
This one hits its target.
The explosion knocks the helicopter sideways, tearing a blade free. Metal screeches. The aircraft tips violently before crashing onto its side.
The medics inside scream.
Lena gasps, stumbling into me.
I grab her tighter. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
“No, Ronan—” She grips my face with shaking hands. “They’re trying to separate us. Don’t let them—”
“Not happening.”
I push her behind a fallen log, shielding her again as bullets chew through the snow.
River dives beside us. “Helicopter’s down. We need a new plan.”
Aaron slides into cover next to us. “We’ve got at least twelve hostiles, maybe more. They were lying in wait.”
Of course they were.
Roscov knew I’d come for her.
Knew I’d get her out.
And he knew the only way to hurt me now…
was to take her back.
Over my dead body.
Lena curls closer, breath shaking. “Ronan… I can fight. Just tell me what to do.”
I look at her — bruised, injured, barely standing — and something fierce and dark coils through me.
“You already fought,” I tell her. “You survived. Now let us do the rest.”
She searches my eyes and nods. “Okay, until I get stronger.”
I lean in, forehead brushing hers — not gentle, but grounding. Claiming.
“Nothing on this mountain is taking you from me.”
A burst of gunfire hits the log above our heads. Splinters rain down.
Beckett shouts from the tree line, “Ronan! They’re circling right! They’re trying to cut you and Lena off!”
River curses. “They’re targeting her.”
“No,” I snarl. “They’re targeting me.”
The rage hits cold and precise.
