Page 4

Her eyes are glued to me now. She’s awake—alert and pondering—but her eyelids are heavy and she’s missing the spark I love so much about her.

The tip of her nose is red, so are her ears, and her hair is frozen, but bringing her out here is a risk I’m willing to take. I lean down and kiss her brow, pulling the blanket around her again.

“Come on. Let’s keep moving.” The frost is here to stay now. Within days, we probably won’t be going outside for months.

I continue on and finally see the trail marker I left for myself, indicating that the cabin is nearby. Behind me is a deep trail of footprints I left… The others could easily find us if they wanted, but if they follow me, I will kill them. They must be aware of that and, hopefully, will concentrate on their own survival without worrying about us. Eventually, the snow will hide my tracks, and this hunting cabin is so well-hidden that not even the spawn of Satan would be able to find it.

I carry her through the thick forest of fir trees and ignore the burning sensation on my ears and nose until I see it, hidden among the trees and brush, the roof covered in snow. When I arrive, I push open the wooden door and step inside. The room is sparsely furnished, with just a double bed tucked in the corner and one small table and chair, and the kitchen is comprised of a small wood-burning stove. The air inside smells of aged timber and musty earth. I place her on the foam mattress someone left here, next to the stone fireplace that takes over an entire wall, which is blackened from soot from the countless fires lit by whoever was here before us.

Earlier, I put four blankets down on top of the bed. She lies down and curls her knees to her chest, pulling her wolf blanket over her. I already prepared as much wood as I could, and I smile as I light the fire while she makes herself comfortable.

“Why is this place here?” she finally asks after countless minutes of watching me work. “Is this a dream?”

I see that gleam in her eyes as I crawl in and lie down, curling myself behind her, the day finally catching up with me. “No, it’s not a dream. It’s where we’re going to live now, baby. They won’t find us here. I promise.” Nobody will ever find this place. Whoever built it clearly didn’t want to be found.

She lifts her head, and the edges of my lips quirk at the look she’s giving me—the same look she’s been giving me from the beginning, her eyes bright with curiosity. It’s how I eventually suspected she felt the same.

She turns her attention to the cabin itself as if inspecting every inch of it. Eventually, she crinkles her nose and rests her head down. “It’s small and dirty in here, and it smells funny,” she says.

I kiss the back of her head, suppressing a smile, and press my warm hands over her freezing ears. “Sorry I can’t provide you with more luxury, sweetheart, but this is home now. It has a stocked fridge, a woodstove, and a bed, so you’re welcome.”

The stove even has some cast-iron pots and pans which, along with the supplies I brought here, should sustain us for a while. Fuel, fire starter, a knife, the canned beans she loves so much, lard, pasta, spam, canned fish, sauces, and a bunch of frozen meat from small game I hunted and smoked over the past week to prepare for this. The freshwater creek that leads into the lake is close by, so we will be able to catch fish even during winter.

It has everything we need for long-term survival. It’s as if someone wrapped it up like a present, just for me.

“It’s perfect,” she finally says. “But… what if whoever lives here comes back?”

I tuck her into my arms. “The person who built this place hasn’t been here for a long time, baby. They won’t come back; it’s ours now.”

She turns to face me, placing her good hand over my face and cupping my cheek as the morning light shines through our one tiny window. I think she does that to prove to herself it’s me she’s with, and not Maison. I’ve never seen her do that to Maison. It’s like she has to touch my jawline to determine which brother she’s fucking. It probably doesn’t help that I’m being all gushy and calling her baby, either. It must be confusing for her.

She kisses me, pressing her lips to mine. It’s missing the luster it usually has, so I peel away. She’s tired… When I fuck her again, I want to unleash. I can’t hold back, so it’s easier and better for both of us if we wait. Especially for what I have planned for her. Because then, she’ll never question who’s inside her anymore.

“Not yet, London,” I whisper. “You’re not ready. I want you to focus on getting better. Just sleep now.”

I haven’t fucked her since Maison died; I haven’t even tried since the night I hurt her at the cove and called her the wrong name. Every day I spend with her is torturous. I want her so fucking badly that she’s consuming every single one of my thoughts.

She purses her lips but rests her head down, and her eyes grow heavy as her body finally warms. “I am ready for you, Micah,” she whispers before sleep takes her. “I want to make you feel good now.”

That makes two of us.

But she isn’t ready for me, for what I really need from her. I’ll be patient.

I run my hand over her forehead. “When you’re better, I plan on fucking you in every position, in every square inch of this shack. Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart, because once I start, I won’t stop.”

She pulls away and runs her hand through my hair. Then she lays her head down again, but the flash in her eyes pains me. It betrays her because I can see the anguish in them, even if she’s putting on a brave face for me.

She’s thinking about him.

That’s what she says she wants—to satisfy me—but to satisfy me, it will only be me. And she will have to explore her own limits and expose a side of me I haven’t shared with anyone. Even Olivia didn’t get the full breadth of what I’m capable of.

“I love you, Micah,” London breathes as I slide my hand over her stomach and let my eyes hang heavy. I love hearing my name from her lips. Heat fills my core at her blind trust in me. “I’m sorry about Maison.”

I bristle at her ruining the moment.

“Go to sleep, London. It’s going to be a long winter.” I yawn, shifting to get into a comfortable position, resting one hand behind my head and one on her hip.

I don’t want to share her with him, even in grief. She doesn’t seem to pick up on my annoyance and nestles in for the night. As I watch her lips part, I wonder for a moment if I’ve made the right decision to bring her here.