Chapter 19
Cameron
Consciousness finds me the next morning with a satisfied smile on my face. Ronan’s side of the bed is empty, the pillow still indented from his head, but a fresh water bottle on the nightstand shows he checked on me at least once.
He reads me like I have an instruction manual stapled to my forehead, intuitively grasping my need for time. I need space to process the intimacy we shared, and he gives it to me without question, while still silently offering support.
Quiet gestures of care show me he’s paying attention, seeing things I never once thought to tell him.
Last night was incredible. Patient and sweet, he pulled me out of my insecurities without making a big deal about them. A sappy grin pulls onto my mouth as I remember him dancing in his underwear, and I tug the covers over my head to hide the lovesick expression I’m sure is on my face.
A mouthwatering aroma of something sugary wafts into the room, and it’s a powerful motivator to leave the comfort of the bed. Once I’ve emptied my bladder and brushed my teeth, I pull on clean jeans and a t-shirt, following my nose to the kitchen. Steam rises from the stove as Ronan, wearing only a pair of pants, twirls a spatula as he hums.
Who would’ve thought that this beefcake of a warrior was so domesticated at heart?
So sweet ?
The memory of his story, the pain of his stolen youth, aches in my chest, and I wonder what joyful, carefree person he might have become if he’d had the freedom to be loose and easy like this. If he’d been allowed to step away from the violence like his father wanted to all those years ago.
Despite decades of service, he shows no outward signs of missing the military. Or perhaps that’s just my restless heart—hoping I’m worth the sacrifice.
“You going to stare at me all morning?” he calls over his shoulder, and Boomerang perks up from her spot beside his feet. Traitor. She spends more time with him than me these days.
“I might,” I say, crossing my arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Could you blame me?”
His cheeks lift in a smile that I can see even from my place behind him. “I can put those britches back on from last night if it helps.”
Heat flushes my cheeks as I grin, dragging my palm over my face. “ Britches , he says,” I mutter, laughing to myself. “Is that proper military terminology?”
“No, but it made you laugh.” He’s all smiling lips and loose posture as he walks to me, sweeping me from my spot in the door. Dipping me low, he drops a long, patient kiss on my mouth. “Good morning, handsome.”
“Morning,” I breathe, lost in a forest of his raven hair as it drapes around us, surrounded by the strength of his arms. He lifts me to my feet and places another soft peck on my lips before adjusting my glasses from where they’d slid on my nose.
He returns to the stove and leaves me among the wreckage of my dignity, shattered from swooning at a single romantic gesture. I grunt under my breath, collecting myself as I smooth the fabric of my shirt.
I’m not the type of man to get ruffled over a simple act of courtship, even from someone as impressive as Ronan.
That’s just sad.
Pathetic.
“Since we found those syrups, I thought your sweet tooth might appreciate a batch of pancakes. They’re not perfect, but I’m working with limited resources. One of these days, I’ll be able to make you the real thing.”
And there it goes. The illusion is shattered as I swoon again.
Pathetic it is.
Fluffy, steamy pancakes sit on a platter beside him as I walk over, clearing my throat to collect myself. “How are you such a good cook?”
“My dad taught me when I was younger, and it’s something the military does in rotations. Every few months, you’re put on kitchen duty, so the basics stay with you.”
“Baking from scratch is basic?” I reach around him, attempting to steal a pancake without him noticing. The spatula smacks me in the back of the hand with a pop, and I yelp, glaring as he tries to stifle his grin.
“It’s easy once you learn, and a necessity when you’re feeding hundreds of soldiers at once. They need high levels of calories, so bread and rice are staples.”
“You know what I haven’t had in forever?” I ask, my eyes glazing over as I daydream. “Potatoes. Gods, my mom used to make mashed potatoes that were just to die for.”
“Did you have access to dairy?”
I nod, grinning at the memory. “We had a few cows and goats in the community. One summer, it was my chore to milk them in the mornings, but I was terrible at it. More ended up on my clothes than in the buckets, and I got a giant hoofprint-shaped bruise on my chest when Gertrude kicked me.”
“Gertrude was a cow?” He twists the knob on the oven to turn it off as he flips the last batch of pancakes.
“Goat,” I laugh, remembering how the mean thing would headbutt me if I didn’t hobble her feet.
Ronan swings around and points the spatula at me. “I’ll kill her for putting her hands… er, hooves on my man.”
“Getting possessive of an animal touching me the wrong way?”
His brow arches as he carries my food over, placing it on the table before me. “If someone so much as looks at you the wrong way, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing they do.” His lip lifts just enough to show his fangs as he leans closer. “Nobody touches what’s mine without paying the price.”
“What’s yours, huh?” I ask, my breath sawing from my nose.
“Mmhmm,” he hums, ghosting his lips over mine .
“And that threat applies to animals?”
“Animals…” Another faint kiss brushes over my lips. “Men…” His mouth is more intentional this time as he lingers. “Monsters…” I’m nothing more than putty in his hands as he works my mouth open and slides his tongue over mine. “They will know better than to come anywhere close to what belongs to me.” He pulls away and my hand snaps to grip his neck, eyes locked on his as I try to drag him closer again.
His grin stretches as he lets me pull him back, but he doesn’t kiss me. “And Cameron?”
“Yeah?” I breathe, still staring into his eyes.
“You do belong to me. Never forget that.”
Under normal circumstances, I’d argue that I’m not a possession to be owned, but this? This feels a lot like ownership. It feels like he possesses every inch of my body as his gaze rakes across my face, waiting for an acknowledgement. My tongue darts over my lips, and his eyes drop to watch the motion.
“What happens if I do?” I finally ask, and his smile turns salacious.
“Guess you’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?” he murmurs, finding my lips again in a slow, drawn-out kiss. By the time he pulls away, I’m breathing heavily and digging my nails into his skin.
“Eat your breakfast.” He drops another chaste kiss on my nose as I pout, but my focus does a complete one-eighty as I stare at the fluffy mound of pancakes. Ronan looks extraordinarily pleased with himself as he sits the maple syrup in front of me.
“Now, I know you have a sweet tooth, but do not drink that,” he commands, and I narrow my eyes at him as I drizzle a respectable amount over my food. When he nods, satisfied, I tip the jar up and douse my plate in sugar.
He sighs, a grin playing on his face as he reaches for the syrup. “I saw that.”
My body wiggles in excitement as I take my first bite with a groan. Amused, he watches me with a smirk. “You have to be careful,” I tell him through a giant mouthful, which I realize too late is decidedly not sexy. “Without me walking all day long, and with this cooking? I will get so chunky, and every sugary bite along the way will make me happy.”
“You’ll be my little roly poly,” he teases, and I snort another unsexy laugh as I stuff my face. “It’ll be convenient in winter, because you’ll be nice and warm—my own personal heater.” I scowl at him, then realize I have syrup dripping down my chin and wipe it away. Now I’m distracted by the syrup on my hand, and I lick it clean.
A loud burst of a laugh rips through the stillness of the house, and my eyes snap up to Ronan, hand in my mouth. Elbows propped on the table, his head rests in his palms and his shoulders shake with mirth.
“Gods, you are so fucking delightful,” he gets out through his laughter, and soon, I’m giggling along with him. He stands, still chuckling, and presses an insistent kiss on my lips. “I love everything about you—sarcasm, sugar addiction, and all,” he murmurs, kissing me again before returning to his meal.
His words just imploded my entire world, and he has no idea.
Suddenly desperate to fill the silence, I blurt, “It’s raining.” His brows are creased in a furrow as he glances at me in question, but I embrace my idiocy and double down with talk about the weather, of all things. My dumb ass gestures towards the windows, where raindrops plunk against the glass in a slow patter. “Can’t work outside in the rain.”
“Why?” he snorts, tossing me a snarky grin. “Eat too much sugar and think you’re going to melt? Spoiler alert, Cam, you aren’t that sweet.”
Calm washes away my nerves at the familiar teasing, although there’s a certain understanding in his eyes that makes me think he knows exactly what he’s doing and how much I needed it. “Ah, fuck you, pretty boy. I just thought you wouldn’t want to get your hair wet after you spent so long fixing it.”
“Mmm,” he hums, nodding in agreement. “It would be a shame. Tell me, sugar buns, what’d you do out on the road every time it rained?”
I laugh as he lets a grin slip. “Usually holed up in a cave or an abandoned house until it passed.”
“Fair enough. Luckily for us, there’s plenty of work to be done inside. There are several buildings we haven’t sorted yet.”
“What’s the plan here long term?” His eyes find mine with a hint of surprise, not expecting the question. “We agree that staying here permanently isn’t in the cards. Raiders will return to this camp eventually, and I’m not much help in a fight.”
Ronan’s snarl shows the tips of his fangs, like the tiny things are a threat.
So fucking cute.
“I’ll protect you,” he grumbles, and I suppress my smile .
“Calm down, big guy. I never said you wouldn’t. It just feels like we’re getting… comfortable.”
He nods, deep in thought. “The supplies here could take us years to find on the road, so I want to finish searching this camp. We can’t possibly transport it all, but we can prioritize what we find.”
“And take it where? We found gas, but we can’t caravan around the wastelands forever.”
“There’s a small village that keeps haunting me.” His dark eyes dart to mine, hesitation written in the lines of his face. My hand reaches across the table, and he draws a deep breath as he takes it, squeezing my fingers. “Commander Bravis ordered us to raid it for no other reason than he was pissed that people were living where he couldn’t reach them. He was obsessed. We spent weeks tracking them, until a hunter was spotted in the woods one day, and our scouts followed him home.”
He’s quiet for a long stretch, his eyes faraway. “It wasn’t the first time I questioned the ethics of what we were doing, but it was the first time I actively rebelled against it. As my team went in, Elas and I snuck ahead to warn the humans. They weren’t harming anyone, just surviving, and I was so angry that I’d been put into such a position.”
“What happened?”
His voice is rough as he says, “We tried . Understand, Cameron, that if we’d been caught, we would’ve been executed on the spot. Or at least, that was the excuse I gave myself, but maybe I was just a coward that didn’t want to risk more. Three houses. That’s all we could warn. Just three.”
“Did they get away?” I ask quietly. “The ones you warned? ”
“Some, no. The others... I don’t know.” Shame paints his face as he gets lost in the memories. “That’s what I’d like to believe, but realistically... I could’ve done more, but I didn’t. Instead, I was a good little soldier and followed my orders with blind obedience.”
“That doesn’t sound like blind obedience, Ronan.” I squeeze his fingers as he stares at our joined hands. “You did what you could.”
“Did I?” he demands, eyes full of fire as they swing up to meet mine. “I should’ve slaughtered that terrible man a long time ago.”
“Another equally ruthless person would’ve stepped into his shoes, and you know it’s true far better than I do. There are plenty more just as awful as him waiting in the wings. Bad men aren’t stopped by a single death, and evil isn’t defeated by removing one of its soldiers. People who hurt others will always exist, and all we can do is try to balance the scales.”
“Fuck, I know,” he mutters, pulling his hand from mine as he buries his face in his palms. “I know .” Silence falls between us as I give him a chance to collect himself, giving a light squeeze to his shoulder before busying myself by clearing the dishes from the table.
I sense him before I see him, an awareness that tingles the mark on my arm. His deep breath pulls in, long and slow, and his heavy arms wrap around my waist, lips brushing my neck as he speaks. “That town… it was so well hidden. So protected. It’s been years, but I think I could find my way back to it.”
“What if someone else has claimed it? ”
“It’s possible,” he admits, resting his chin on my shoulder. “But if others are there, maybe they’d take in a reformed monster and his mate.”
“And if not? If they tried to hurt us?”
Kisses dot along my neck, and he’s quiet, staring at the countertop. “Your safety will always be my priority, Cameron, and I won’t apologize for that.”
“That wasn’t a straight answer.”
He meets my eyes, steely determination inside them that shows me no matter how much he wants peace, his heart will forever be that of a warrior. “It wasn’t meant to be.”