Chapter 67 Harper
Harper
Iwoke to the sound of birds. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was—only that I was warm, safe, tucked against a chest that rose and fell in steady rhythm. Carter’s arm was draped over me, heavy and protective, his breath stirring my hair.
Morning light spilled faintly through the cracks in the shutters, striping the room in pale gold. For one fragile heartbeat, it felt like we could’ve been anywhere. Like danger hadn’t followed us into these mountains. Like the world was ordinary again.
Then memory returned—Graves, the contracts, my name at the top of the list. The illusion cracked, sharp and bitter.
I turned my face into Carter’s chest, eyes burning. He stirred instantly, the soldier never fully at rest, his arm tightening around me. “Harper?”
“I’m fine,” I whispered, though the tremor in my voice betrayed me.
He tipped my chin up, his thumb brushing my cheek. His eyes—storm-dark, unyielding—searched mine. “Don’t lie to me. Please tell me.”
Something inside me broke at that. The tears came hot and fast, spilling before I could stop them. “I keep thinking it’s not over. That even with Graves gone, they’ll keep coming. That I’ll never be more than a target.”
Carter’s jaw flexed, his gaze fierce. “You’re not a target. You’re the reason I’m still breathing. You’re the reason I’ll burn down every name, every list, until there’s nothing left to hunt you.”
The vow was raw, jagged with fury and love, and it cut right through my fear.
I pressed my forehead to his, my voice shaking but sure. “Then I’ll fight too. Not just to survive. For us. For the life we deserve when this is over.”
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. We just breathed each other in, tangled in warmth and promises too big to say out loud.
But even as my chest steadied, I knew this quiet couldn’t last. The war was still out there, and Carter wouldn’t stop until it was over.
And this time, I wasn’t going to let him face it alone.