I shift in the chair, stretching my legs out as best I can. “No. But I don’t mind.”
She stays quiet for a moment. Then she sits up, the quilt pooling around her waist. Even in the dark I can see the guilt on her face. “You shouldn’t have to sleep like that.”
I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “I want to give you space, Sadie. But I also want to be close enough that you feel safe. If the chair does the job, I’ll take it.”
She looks down at her hands, twisting the edge of the quilt. The silence stretches until it feels heavy. I wait, patient, giving her room to speak or not speak. Finally she lifts her eyes to mine. “I feel bad,” she whispers. “I’ve been distant all evening. It’s not fair to you.”
I stand and move to the bed, sitting on the edge so I face her. Close, but not touching unless she wants it. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
She takes a shaky breath. The words come out in a rush, quiet but clear. “I can’t believe how fast I’m falling for you. These last few days have been the happiest I can remember. But what happens when this is all over? When Magnus is gone and I don’t need to hide here anymore? Will you still want me? Or am I just another woman you rescued? Someone who needed saving and then you move on? I keep wondering if you do this with every woman who shows up scared at the compound.”
The confession lands soft and honest. For a second I just look at her, taking in the worry in her eyes and the way her shoulders tense like she expects the worst. Then a low chuckle escapes me, warm and genuine.
“Sadie.” I reach out and brush a strand of hair from her cheek, letting my fingers linger. “I have never felt this completely wrecked over a woman before. Not once. You’re not just another rescue. You’re not convenient or temporary. I’m all in. Completely. If that scares you, I understand. I will give you whatever space you need until you believe it. Until you are ready to accept that this is real for me.”
She searches my face, eyes wide in the dim light. I keep my voice steady, letting her see the truth in every word.
“You walked into my life running from real danger, and somehow you turned everything upside down in the best way. I want you here when the threat is gone. I want you here tomorrow and the day after that. Not because you need protecting, but because I can’t picture the cabin without you in it anymore. Take your time figuring that out. I’m not going anywhere.”
I pause, running a hand through my hair as old memories surface.
“I spent twelve years in the military. Special forces. Most of it overseas, places most people never hear about. We went in, got the job done, and got out. No attachments. No roots. Every mission taught me the same lesson. People come and go. Teams change. You learn not to hold on too tight because tomorrow you might be gone or they might be. I got good at keeping things surface level. Easy in, easy out. After I left the service and came to Haven 7, I figured that was just how I was built. Keepeveryone at arm’s length. Protect the compound. Do the work. Go to bed alone.”
I look at her again, letting the weight of those years show in my eyes.
“Then you showed up. Scared, running, but with this fire in you that wouldn’t quit. From the first night I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Not in the way I used to think about women back then. This is different. Deeper. You make me want things I never let myself want before. A real life here on the mountain. Mornings where I wake up and you’re still beside me. Nights where I come home and you’re waiting. I have never felt that pull with anyone else. Never let myself get wrecked like this. You did that. And it doesn’t scare me. It feels right.”
She stays quiet, but some of the tension eases from her shoulders. I don’t push for more. Instead I stand and move back to the chair, giving her the space she asked for earlier.
“Get some rest,” I say softly. “I’ll be right here.”
She lies back down, but this time she turns toward me. Her hand reaches out and rests on the edge of the bed, close enough that if she wants to, she can touch me. I settle into the chair again, the ache in my back nothing compared to the relief of having her fears out in the open.
The night stretches on, quieter now. I watch over her, heart steady with the knowledge that whatever comes next, I meant every word. She’s not temporary. She’s mine, if she’ll have me. And I’ll wait as long as it takes for her to see it too. The military taught me how to endure. How to stand guard through long, cold nights. Tonight that training serves a better purpose. Guardingthe woman who has finally made me want to put down roots and stay.
TWELVE
SADIE
I lie in bed staring at the faint patterns of moonlight on the ceiling, Thorne’s words echoing in my mind. He has never felt this wrecked over a woman before. He’s all in. Completely. The confession settles over me like a warm blanket, soft and heavy at the same time. I want to believe him. Every part of me wants to reach out and pull those words close until they become part of my bones.
I close my eyes and let myself picture it. A life here on the mountain with Thorne. Waking up every morning in his arms, the scent of pine and coffee filling the cabin. Watching him move around the kitchen with that quiet confidence, making breakfast while I sit at the table and steal glances at his broad shoulders and the way his flannel stretches across his chest. Evenings by the fire where we talk about nothing and everything, his hand resting on my knee like it belongs there. Lazy weekends where we hike the trails around Haven 7 or simply sit on the porch with mugs of hot coffee, watching the sun rise over the peaks. Days where the only danger is a late snowstorm or a stubborn fence line that needs mending. No more looking over my shoulder. No more Magnus. Just us, building something real and lasting. Theimage feels so vivid it makes my chest ache with longing. I want that life more than anything I have ever wanted before.
But the worry creeps in anyway, stubborn and cold. Magnus doesn’t let go easily. He has money, connections, and a temper that never cools. What if I can never truly outrun him? What if the safety we feel here on the mountain is only temporary? The thought twists in my stomach, sharp and familiar. I have spent so long running that it’s hard to imagine a future where the running stops for good.
The cabin is quiet except for the soft sound of Thorne breathing in the chair beside the bed. He chose discomfort just to give me space while still staying close enough to make me feel protected. That single choice says more than any words could. He’s patient in a way no one has ever been with me. Steady. Present. Even now, folded into that armchair, he keeps watch over me without complaint.
I turn onto my side and look at him. The moonlight catches the strong line of his jaw, the width of his shoulders, the faint scars that mark his skin from years in the military. Even in the dim light he looks powerful, yet he holds himself still for my sake. My heart swells until it feels too big for my chest. I don’t want space anymore. I want him. All of him. Close and warm and real.
“Thorne,” I whisper into the dark.
He lifts his head immediately, eyes open and alert. “Yeah?”
I swallow, nerves and desire mixing together. “Will you come to bed? With me?”
He doesn’t hesitate. He rises from the chair, the wood creaking in relief, and crosses the short distance. The mattress dips as he sits on the edge, then stretches out beside me. I shift closer untilour bodies touch. His warmth seeps through my clothes and into my skin. For a moment we simply lie there, faces inches apart, breathing the same air.
“I want you,” I say softly. “I want this.”
