Chapter 144 Harper
Harper
The safehouse quieted after the suits left, the team finally scattering—Cyclone to the cot he’d claimed, Gideon muttering about stitches, River and Faron still bent over the map, unwilling to let their minds rest. But Carter’s hand never left mine.
When he finally tugged me down the hall, the silence between us wasn’t heavy. It was charged.
The room he led me into was dim, just a single lamp humming in the corner. The door clicked shut, and for the first time since Redwood’s shadow fell over us, it felt like we were alone. Really alone.
Carter didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there, eyes locked on mine, the weight of everything we’d been through crowding the space between us. Then his hand came up, brushing a strand of hair back from my cheek, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw like he couldn’t believe I was real.
“You scare me,” he said finally, his voice low, rough. “Not because you’re weak. Because you’re stronger than you should have to be. And because I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
The lump in my throat was sharp and unrelenting. I stepped into him, pressing my palms flat against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart under my fingers. “You’re not going to lose me,” I whispered. “Not to Redwood. Not to anyone.”
That broke something in both of us. His mouth crashed against mine, hot and desperate, and I kissed him back like I’d been holding my breath for months. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him, and the sound he made when I melted into him was raw enough to undo me completely.
The cot groaned as he lowered me onto it, his body covering mine, but the way he touched me—slow, reverent, aching—was nothing like the violence we’d survived. It was love, fierce and undeniable, poured into every kiss, every brush of his calloused hands over my skin.
“Harper,” he murmured against my throat, like my name was the only word that mattered.
I tangled my hands in his hair, my voice breaking when I whispered, “I’m yours. Always.”
And when we finally came together, it wasn’t about erasing the fear or proving we’d survived. It was about claiming something Redwood could never touch. Us.
The world outside could burn, the files could wait, but in that moment, there was nothing but Carter and me—breathless, tangled, alive.