Chapter 70 Carter
Carter
Her hand was small but steady in mine, her voice cutting through the silence of the cabin. “We fight together.”
Every instinct in me screamed to push back, to shield her from the blood and dirt and fire waiting outside these walls. But the look in her eyes stopped me cold. Fierce. Unmovable. The same look I’d seen when she stood in that warehouse, chained but unbroken.
Damn it. She wasn’t asking. She was telling me who she was.
And if I tried to smother that, I’d lose her anyway. Not to a bullet—but to the walls I kept building around us.
River leaned back in his chair, studying the two of us with that quiet, assessing calm. Gideon didn’t even bother hiding his smirk as he tapped at the laptop. Cyclone came in from the porch, shaking his head like he’d expected this all along.
“You’ve got yourself a fighter, Carter,” River said finally.
“I know,” I muttered.
Harper’s fingers squeezed mine, grounding me. And for the first time, I didn’t see her as someone I had to lock away to keep safe. I saw her as part of the reason I’d survive this.
I turned back to the table, my voice sharp again but steady. “Then we adjust the plan. I don’t want her in the line of fire, but she’s in the room. She hears everything. No secrets.”
River gave a short nod. Gideon’s smirk faded into something like respect. Cyclone set his rifle against the wall, crossing his arms.
The soldier in me hated it. Every bone in my body still itched to drag Harper back to the bedroom, bolt the door, and stand guard until the world forgot her name.
But the man in me—the one who loved her—knew this was the only way we’d both make it out whole.
I glanced down at her, meeting her gaze. “Together,” I said quietly.
And for the first time, the vow didn’t feel like surrender.
It felt like strength.