Chapter 14
The night air in the mountains was razor-sharp when we finally broke through the tree line.
The fire’s glow was long gone now, buried behind jagged peaks, leaving only the pale shimmer of moonlight on the snow.
My boots dragged a little more with every step, exhaustion gnawing at the edges of my awareness.
The forest seemed endless, its silence pressing in on all sides.
Con walked ahead, his movements measured but urgent, his gaze sweeping the dark slopes for threats. The snow muffled everything except the crunch of our footsteps and the whisper of wind through the pines. My fingers were numb, my breath a ghost in the cold.
“We’re close,” Con said, voice low. “Another five minutes.”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I had five left in me. The adrenaline that had carried me through the warehouse fight had burned away, leaving only the hollow ache of fatigue. The artifact’s weight in my satchel felt heavier now—almost smug in the way it dragged against my hip.
When the black SUV came into view through the trees, relief hit so hard my knees nearly buckled. It sat half-buried in snow where we’d left it hours earlier, dusted white. Con brushed snow from the windshield with his arm and opened the driver’s door.
He turned toward me, eyes catching the moonlight. “Get in.”
I didn’t argue. My hands shook as I pulled the door open and climbed inside.
The leather seat was freezing, but solid and grounding.
Con started the engine; the deep rumble filled the quiet night.
The heater hummed to life, warm air spilling through the vents, almost painful at first against my chilled skin.
For a moment we just sat there, breathing, thawing. Then Con shifted the SUV into gear, and the tires bit into the snow as we began the long descent.
Trees and cliffs blurred past, the distant ribbon of the river glinting under the moon. I leaned my head back, watching snow swirl in the headlights. My body begged for sleep, but my mind was restless—still echoing with fire, steel, blood… and the way Con had kissed me.
He drove with both hands on the wheel, shoulders rigid, jaw set. Even inside the SUV, he was alert—ever the soldier. Dashlight cast silver across his face, outlining every angle.
“You should rest,” he said eventually.
“I can’t,” I murmured. “Not yet.”
His brow lifted slightly. “Because of the artifact?”
“Because of everything.”
Silence settled between us, the hum of the engine the only sound. The wind buffeted the SUV as the forest thinned and the highway opened before us.
By the time the lights of Shadow Thorn appeared—warm pinpricks scattered along the ridgeline—my vision was blurring at the edges.
Con noticed instantly.
“Cass,” he said quietly, glancing my way.
“I’m fine,” I lied, forcing my eyes open.
“You’re as white as frost. Stay with me a little longer.”
The SUV rolled to a stop in the courtyard. The mansion loomed above us, soft light glowing behind frost-rimmed windows. Con was out before I could unbuckle, his door thudding shut in the cold. He came around, opened mine, and offered his hand.
“I can walk,” I said—even as my legs trembled.
“I know,” he replied softly, holding his hand out anyway.
My fingers shook as I took it. His grip was steady, warm, careful. He guided me up the steps, one hand at my elbow, the other brushing the small of my back when I faltered.
The mansion doors opened before we reached them. Alain must have heard the engine. Warm light spilled out across the snow, making my head swim. Con tightened his hold as we crossed the threshold.
The foyer smelled of woodsmoke and cedar oil. It should have been comforting, but the sudden heat made the room tilt.
“You are back, maybe we could—” Alain started, but his voice blurred, distant.
I nodded vaguely. “Maybe later,” I said, the word slurring.
Con’s arm slid fully around my waist. “She needs rest. Where’s Emmett?”
“In his office,” Alain replied. “Shall I—”
“Not now.”
We climbed the stairs. Every step was a battle. By the time we reached my suite, my limbs felt carved from stone.
Con opened the door. “Almost there,” he murmured.
I stepped inside—and the world dropped.
My knees buckled. Con caught me instantly, arms sweeping beneath me in one fluid motion. His heartbeat thudded against my cheek, steady where mine faltered.
“Cass.” His voice was threaded with fear. “Stay with me.”
I tried, but the darkness rose too fast. The last thing I felt was the warmth of his chest and the slight tremor in his breath.
Maybe he said my name again—soft, almost broken.
Then everything went black.
Warmth came first.
Not the distant heat of the hearth—but something closer, alive, wrapped around me like a shield.
Golden firelight flickered across the ceiling. Shadows danced in gentle arcs. It took me several slow breaths before I realized I was in my bed.
And I wasn’t alone.
My head rested on something solid and warm. A steady rise and fall beneath my cheek gave it away.
Con.
He lay on his side facing me, half in shadow. The firelight traced the lines of his face, softening the sharpness I’d come to expect. The tension he always carried—gone. He looked peaceful. Vulnerable.
My pulse stuttered.
He wasn’t holding me exactly, but he was close enough that the heat from his skin reached me through the thin fabric of my shirt. Someone—likely him—had changed me out of my battle gear. The thought sent a strange flutter through me, a mix of gratitude and something deeper.
I shifted, barely—and his hand twitched beneath the covers in response, brushing my hip before settling again.
I didn’t touch him. I didn’t dare. I just listened to his breathing, slow and even. The artifact pulsed on the bedside table, a soft glow that illuminated the outline of Con’s jaw.
For once, the world was quiet.
And I wasn’t alone.
Time passed—minutes or hours, I couldn’t tell—before his breathing shifted.
His lashes lifted.
Gold flickered through his eyes first… then the ember-red, like heat under coals.
He didn’t speak.
He simply watched me.
The silence between us tightened, heavy and charged. His shirt was gone, his skin warm from the fire. The lines of his body were power held still only by sheer will. The moment he realized how close I was, the muscles across his shoulders tensed, slow and subtle.
I didn’t move away.
Instead, I leaned in, resting my head near his shoulder. He shifted—not pulling me in, but giving me space to fit there, like he’d been waiting for it.
His pulse beneath my cheek was steady, but I felt the tremor in him. The want. The restraint.
When I looked up, the mix of gold and red in his eyes met mine. No mask. No command.
Just truth.
I lifted my hand and brushed my fingers along his jaw. The stubble there scraped gently against my skin. He went completely, utterly still.
“Con,” I whispered.
His eyes softened—but the gold still burned at the edges.
I guided his face down toward mine, slow enough for him to stop me.
He didn’t.
Our foreheads touched first. His breath spilled warmly across my lips. The tension between us hummed like a live wire.
For a long moment, neither of us moved.
When he finally met my gaze again, I saw the decision settle there—quiet, certain.
Not surrender.
Understanding.
He didn’t speak.
He didn’t need to.
Because in that fragile, breathless space—
we both already knew.