Chapter 6
6
JONAH
T he sun crept over the horizon, casting long shadows across their trail. The light, weak and pale, provided little in the way of additional heat to offset the freezing temperature. Jonah moved steadily, his steps silent on the uneven terrain as he scanned the area ahead for danger. The wilderness was his domain, its secrets and threats as familiar to him as his own reflection.
But today, it wasn’t the looming danger that distracted him—it was Phoebe.
She followed just behind him, her movements precise but slightly stiff. She was disciplined, no doubt a result of her military training, but the wilderness didn’t play by military rules. The terrain was wild and unpredictable, the kind that punished the overly rigid. Jonah could see the conflict in her, the way she fought against her training honed in a different world. And yet, she was tough. Determined. Qualities Jonah respected, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud.
“Are we close to where you want to stop?” Phoebe asked, her voice soft but carrying an edge of fatigue.
Jonah glanced back at her, his gaze lingering a moment too long. She looked tired, her blonde hair falling loose from its tie, her face streaked with dirt. The faint pull he felt toward her tightened, an invisible thread he couldn’t seem to cut.
“Not yet,” he said, his voice gruff. “The higher we get, the harder we’ll be to track.”
Phoebe nodded, her jaw tightening as she adjusted her footing on the uneven ground. Jonah turned back, forcing his focus on the trail ahead. He couldn’t afford distractions, not with danger at their heels and a woman who didn’t belong out here relying on him to keep her alive.
He kept his ears tuned to the sounds of the wilderness—the rustle of small, falling stones, the distant call of birds, the faint whispers of the wind. They were being hunted, and he needed to stay one step ahead. The men following them were skilled; he could tell from the way they moved and their precision. And now, every sound felt like a threat waiting to strike.
Behind him, Phoebe stumbled slightly, catching herself before she fell. “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath.
Jonah glanced back, his lips twitching in a faint, humorless smile. “You’re too rigid.”
“Excuse me?” Phoebe glared at him, her eyes flashing.
“You’re moving like you’re still on flat ground,” Jonah said. “This place will eat you alive if you don’t adapt.”
Phoebe bristled, straightening her shoulders. “I’m adapting just fine.”
Jonah raised an eyebrow. “Right. That’s why you’re tripping over every root.”
“I’m not tripping over—” Her words cut off as her foot caught on a loose patch of earth, sending her tumbling down the slope.
Jonah’s stopped, but didn’t immediately go after her. Instead, he stepped to the edge of the hill, his eyes following her descent with a focused intensity. She landed hard at the bottom, a muffled groan escaping her lips as she struggled to sit up.
Jonah looked around, scanning the surrounding area, using his sense of sight and smell to garner any information he could about those who were following them. His gaze swept the terrain for signs of movement. Then he saw it—a faint glint of sunlight reflecting off metal through the trees below.
The hunters. They were closer than he’d thought.
Jonah cursed under his breath, his mind racing. The fall had been loud enough to draw attention, and now the men tracking them had a clear direction. He stood abruptly, his body tense as he made a quick decision.
“Stay down,” he called to Phoebe, his voice carrying just enough to reach her without echoing.
Phoebe looked up, her face pale but defiant. “I’m fine; thanks for asking.”
Jonah ignored her sarcastic answer. Instead, he moved swiftly down the hill, his steps controlled and deliberate. He reached her in moments, crouching beside her as his gaze flicked between her and the tree line where he’d spotted the glint of light.
“You’re not fine,” he said, his voice low and rough. “You’re loud, and now they know exactly where we are.” Phoebe scowled, trying to push herself to her feet. Jonah caught her arm, steadying her. “Don’t argue. We need to move. Now.”
“Jonah—”
“Now,” he snapped, cutting her off. His eyes burned into hers, leaving no room for debate.
Phoebe hesitated, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. Then she nodded, her stubbornness yielding to the urgency in his tone.
Jonah pulled her to her feet, his grip firm but careful. “Follow me,” he said, already moving to the side. “We’re changing direction. If we keep going this way, we’ll lead them right to us.”
Phoebe stumbled after him, her steps uneven but determined. Jonah forced himself not to look back at her, not to think about the way her presence seemed to pull at him even now, with danger closing in. She was tough, tougher than most, but she was still vulnerable out here, still relying on him. And Jonah couldn’t shake the overwhelming urge to protect her—not just because she needed it, but because he needed to.
They moved in silence, the tension thick between them. Jonah’s mind raced, every fiber of his being screaming at him to stay focused, to keep ahead of their pursuers. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept circling back to Phoebe—the way her eyes flashed when she challenged him, the stubborn set of her jaw, the quiet strength she carried even when everything around her was falling apart.
She was unlike anyone he’d ever met. And she scared the shit out of him.
Jonah’s steps slowed as the trail ahead narrowed, his senses honing in on any sign of danger. Something wasn’t right. The faint sound of movement, too deliberate to belong to wildlife, reached his ears. He held up a hand to stop Phoebe, his gaze darting to the path ahead.
“What is it?” she whispered, stepping closer.
Jonah didn’t answer immediately, his attention focused on the shadows beyond the bend in the trail. The soft crunch of boots against stone and ice grew louder, and his heart tightened. They were here—too close.
“Off the trail,” he hissed, grabbing her arm. He pulled her toward a cluster of trees just as the faint outlines of their pursuers came into view.
Phoebe stumbled slightly, but Jonah caught her, spinning her around and pressing her back against a wide pine trunk. His body pinned hers in place as his hand covered her mouth. She stiffened, her wide eyes locking onto his, as the tension between them crackled like lightning.
“Don’t move,” he breathed, his voice barely audible, his lips close to her ear.
Phoebe’s breath was hot against his palm as she nodded, her eyes flicking past him toward the figures now rounding the corner. Jonah turned his head slightly, his gaze tracking their movements. Two men, most likely heavily armed, moving with precision. They stopped at the spot where Phoebe had fallen earlier, scanning the area.
Jonah’s pulse thudded in his ears, his focus split between the danger in front of them and the woman pressed against him. His snow leopard roared at him to protect her, to eliminate the threat, but now wasn’t the time. Stealth was their only advantage.
The men exchanged a few muffled words before continuing down the trail, their boots scuffing against the dirt patches before sliding on the icy ones as they moved toward the slope where Phoebe had tumbled. Jonah waited, counting the seconds until the sound of their footsteps faded.
When he finally pulled his hand away, Phoebe exhaled shakily.
“No kidding,” Jonah muttered, stepping back but keeping his body angled protectively between her and the trail. “They’re tracking us too well. We need to move—fast.”
Phoebe nodded, her expression a mix of fear and determination. “Where? They’re heading toward where we were. If we double back, we’ll run into them.”
Jonah clenched his jaw, his mind racing. “Further in,” he said, gesturing to the dense forest on their left. “They’ll expect us to stick to the trails. We’ll cut through the wilderness.”
Phoebe hesitated, glancing at the thick underbrush. “Won’t that slow us down?”
Jonah nodded. “Yes, but it’ll slow them down even more,” Jonah said firmly, already moving. “Come on.”
She followed without argument, her movements quick despite the stiffness in her stride. Jonah kept them moving at a steady pace, his heightened senses attuned to every sound, every flicker of movement. The wilderness was dense here, the trees growing closer together, their branches twisting like claws.
Behind them, the faint sounds of their pursuers grew louder. They weren’t far—close enough to push Jonah’s adrenaline into overdrive.
“They’re catching up,” Phoebe said, her voice tight.
“I know,” Jonah replied, his tone clipped. He forced himself to stay calm, to think. They couldn’t keep running blindly, not with the risk of heading into unfamiliar terrain. But the alternative—letting the men close the distance—was worse.
Phoebe stumbled again, her foot catching on a root, and Jonah turned just in time to steady her. “Watch your step,” he said, his tone angrier than he intended.
“I’m trying,” she snapped, frustration flashing in her eyes. “I’m not used to running for my life in the middle of nowhere.”
Jonah sighed, his grip on her arm firm but not unkind. “You’re doing fine,” he said quietly. “Just keep moving.”
Her gaze softened slightly, and she nodded. They pushed forward, the forest closing in around them, each step taking them deeper into the wilderness.
Jonah’s mind churned as they moved. He had always been a loner, always relied on himself. Letting others in had never been an option, not after losing his father, not after learning how easily people could be taken away. But now, with Phoebe, things felt different. It wasn’t just about keeping her alive—it was much, much more.
The way she met danger head-on despite her fear. The fire in her eyes when she challenged him. The quiet strength that made her push forward even when her body wanted to give up. She wasn’t just someone he was protecting; she was someone he wanted to protect. She was his fated mate, and that terrified him more than the men hunting them.
He shook his head. This wasn’t the time for distractions, not when her life—and his—depended on staying focused. But no matter how hard he tried, the pull toward her was relentless, primal, and growing stronger with every moment they spent together.
“Jonah,” Phoebe said, her voice cutting through his thoughts.
He stopped, turning to her. “What?”
She hesitated, her gaze searching his. “Do you think we’ll make it out of this?”
Her vulnerability hit him like a blow, and he stepped closer, his voice steady but softer now. “We will,” he said firmly. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Phoebe held his gaze, her eyes shining with something he couldn’t name. “Okay,” she said quietly.
Jonah nodded, turning back toward the forest. He didn’t know if he could keep that promise, but he knew one thing for certain: he’d die trying.