Chapter 104 Harper
Harper
Icouldn’t let go.
Even after the helicopter’s rotors slowed, after River barked orders and Cyclone and Gideon hauled Sable across the clearing, I stayed wrapped in Carter’s arms. My fingers fisted in the fabric of his shirt, feeling the rough weave, the heat of his skin beneath, proof that he was real. Alive.
Every nightmare I’d had while he was gone—the gunfire in my head, the silence pressing too heavy—melted away with each ragged breath against my ear.
Finally, I eased back just enough to see his face. Dirt streaked across his jaw, a cut above his brow, dried blood on his shoulder. He looked like he’d fought the world and barely made it through.
But his eyes… those eyes were steady, locked on me like I was the only thing that mattered.
“You’re hurt,” I whispered, my hand brushing the blood at his sleeve.
“Just a scratch,” he said, voice rough but steady. “Nothing that keeps me from you.”
The ache in my chest swelled. Tears spilled, hot and unashamed, but I didn’t care. I cupped his face, forcing him to see me even through the blur. “You scared me, Carter. I thought—” My voice cracked. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
His hand covered mine, strong, warm, grounding me. “I told you I’d come back. Nothing—no ambush, no network, no Redwood—nothing will keep me from you.”
The vow in his voice sank deep into my bones.
I pressed my forehead to his, eyes closing, letting his presence wrap around me. For the first time since the warehouse, I breathed without fear.
Behind us, the team’s voices rose and fell, Sable’s curses cutting sharp through the air. The world was still dangerous, still broken. But in that moment, in Carter’s arms, it felt far away.
Because this—this was home.
And I would hold on to it with everything I had.