“Why would meeting your brother change how I feel about you?” I asked, genuinely puzzled.
Burke’s eyes finally met mine, deep green and troubled. “Because he’s what I could have been,” he said simply. “What I almost was, before I got out. And sometimes...” He swallowed hard. “Sometimes I’m not sure there’s that much difference between us.”
I reached up with my free hand, touched his face gently. The stubble on his jaw was rough against my palm, but I didn’t pull away. “There’s all the difference in the world,” I said. “You’re here, building a life. Building a family.” My hand moved instinctively to my stomach, still flat but containing our future. “That’s who you are, Burke.”
He turned his face into my palm, pressed a kiss there. “He’s coming at three in the morning,” he said. “Landing in the north pasture. Rawley’s not thrilled, but he understands.”
“Does Sterling know?” I asked. “About...the baby?”
Burke nodded. “He knows everything. That’s what he does—knows things. Sees things. Finds things out.”
The way he said it made my skin prickle. “And you think he can help? With Dennis?”
“I know he can.” Burke’s voice was steady now, certain. “Sterling won’t let anything happen to you. To either of you.” His fingers brushed against my stomach, feather-light.
I took a deep breath, trying to sort through the tangle of emotions. Part of me was terrified at the thought of another person becoming involved in this mess—especially someone who sounded as dangerous as Sterling. But another part, the part that still jumped at shadows and flinched at loud noises, felt a wash of relief.
“He sounds scary,” I admitted.
Burke’s mouth quirked in a half-smile. “He is, but only to people who threaten what’s his.” His fingers laced through mine again. “And like it or not, that includes you now. You‘re family.”
Family. The word still hit me like a physical touch, warm and solid and so different from what that word had meant for most of my life. Family had been fists and fear and walking on eggshells. Now it was this—Burke’s hand in mine, the baby growing inside me, and apparently, a deadly operative who’d cross states to keep us safe.
“Twelve hours,” I said, the reality of it settling in. “And he’ll be here.”
Burke nodded, his thumb resuming those slow circles on the back of my hand. “I’ll be with you the whole time. He‘s... intense, but he’s not dangerous. Not to you.”
Something in Burke’s voice shifted as he said it—deepened, roughened around the edges. I looked up and found his eyes had darkened, pupils expanding until only a thin ring of green remained. The change was subtle but unmistakable, like watching a storm roll in across open water.
His scent changed too, the familiar notes of cedar and leather suddenly sharper, more potent. My omega senses responded instantly, a flush of heat spreading across my skin as my body recognized what was happening. Burke’s alpha instincts were surging, triggered by some combination of protectiveness and need that I could almost taste in the air between us.
“Burke?” My voice sounded strange to my own ears, higher and breathier than normal.
He didn’t answer with words. Instead, his hand came up to cup the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair. The touch was gentle but insistent, drawing me closer until our foreheads touched.
For a moment, we just breathed the same air, his exhales becoming my inhales, the rhythm synchronizing until it felt like we shared one set of lungs.
Then his mouth found mine, and gentle was gone.
The kiss was hungry, demanding, a claiming that sent shivers down my spine. His lips pressed hard against mine, coaxing them open, his tongue sliding inside to taste and explore. I melted against him, my body yielding instinctively to his alpha demand, my own scent rising to meet his in the small space between our bodies.
I’d thought I knew every variation of Burke’s kisses by now—from the gentle pecks he left on my forehead in the morning to the deep, slow explorations we shared in bed at night.
But this was something new. Something primal and desperate, like he was trying to imprint himself on me, to markme so thoroughly that no one—not Dennis, not the world—could ever doubt who I belonged to.
My hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, my head tilting to give him better access. A soft sound escaped me, half-moan, half-whimper, and Burke growled in response—an actual growl that vibrated from his chest into mine.
“Mine,” he murmured against my lips, the word more breath than voice. “Mine to protect. Mine to keep safe.”
I nodded, unable to form words as his hands began to move, tracing paths of fire down my sides, across my back, up under my shirt to find bare skin. Each touch sent jolts of electricity through me, my body responding with a surge of warmth between my legs, slick and ready in that uniquely omega way that still surprised me with its intensity.
“Yes,” I managed, though I wasn’t sure what I was agreeing to. Yes to his touch, yes to his claim, yes to whatever came next. Just... yes.
Burke’s hands moved with purpose, stripping away my shirt before I could catch my breath from that kiss. His fingers were steady despite the urgency I could feel vibrating through him, each movement efficient and determined.
He didn’t fumble with buttons or struggle with fabric—this was Burke in mission mode, focused entirely on the objective. But instead of clearing rooms or securing perimeters, his mission was me, and I surrendered willingly to his capable hands.
My own fingers weren’t nearly as coordinated. I fumbled with his belt, the leather slipping through my trembling fingers. Burke gently pushed my hands away, taking care of it himself while I watched, mesmerized by the controlled power in every movement. He shed his clothes with military precision—shirt, boots, jeans, boxers—until he stood naked before me, all lean muscle and tanned skin.
