Chapter 30
Kara
The Gulf water wasn’t exactly cold, but it was still shocking, black and endless.
I kicked hard to regain the surface then had to fight the waves to stay there, gasping every time I broke the surface. My limbs were heavy, my throat raw, and salt burned my eyes until everything blurred.
A spotlight swept across the sea, blinding for a heartbeat. Then—
I heard it.
That sound. That beautiful, roaring, impossible sound.
Engines. Fast ones.
The light came closer, cutting through the spray. The boat surged toward me like a dark beast made of thunder and salvation. A voice shouted my name, fear and desperation in the syllables.
“Kara!” a familiar voice shouted again.
I twisted, coughing and spinning in the water until I saw Lev. He was already reaching out, his expression carved in pure, ruthless determination.
“Grab hold!” Lev shouted. “I’ve got you!”
I tried, but my strength was slipping. The drag of the ship kept pulling me down, my legs cramping as panic clawed up my throat. Just as my body went under again, a hand shot through the dark and caught mine.
Lev’s grip was solid and I was grounded by his strength. The boat pitched hard as he hauled me up, muscles straining, jaw clenched. “I’ve got you,” he growled, his voice confident.
And then I was airborne, crashing against his chest as he pulled me over the side. The deck was slick and cold beneath me, but Lev was warm, his arms locking around me as I trembled. I clung to him, gasping against his soaked shirt, the steady beat of his heart the only proof that this was real.
“You’re safe now,” he whispered against my hair, his breath ragged. “I’ve got you, princess.”
For a moment, all I could do was breathe him in. The delicious scent of salt, gunpowder, and Lev, the smell of a home I didn’t know I had until now. My body shook from exhaustion, but I tilted my face up anyway, my voice barely a whisper.
“You came for me.”
His hand cupped my cheek, thumb brushing away a mix of seawater and tears. “Of course I did.”
Without thinking, without planning, I reached up and kissed him.
It wasn’t a sweet kiss. It was frantic. A collision of relief and need and every unspoken word we didn’t have time for. He made a low sound in his throat and kissed me back, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, holding me like he might never let me go.
The boat rocked violently, and the moment broke as another wave slammed against the hull.
“Enough,” a voice snapped behind us, deep, rough, and familiar.
Roman.
Lev released me slowly, though his hand lingered on my back, reluctant to relinquish the touch. I turned toward the sound of my name, my breath catching.
Roman stood in the cockpit, soaked and furious and heartbreakingly alive. The moonlight painted him in silver, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes burning with too many emotions to name, but anger, relief, and fear seemed evident.
When he saw me move, some of that fire cracked.
“Jesus, Kara,” he said, voice quiet, shaking slightly. “That was a bit of a dramatic exit, don’t you think?”
I laughed and before I could think, I stumbled toward him. He caught me, arms closing around me so tight it hurt, but I didn’t care. His body was solid, strong, and warm.
“I thought I lost you,” he muttered against my hair.
“You almost did.” My voice wobbled. “I wasn’t about to let ARCHEON win, though.”
His hand came up, fingers sliding into my tangled hair, forcing me to look at him. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“I aim to please,” I whispered, a shaky smile tugging at my lips.
He made a sound—half laugh, half growl—and then his mouth was on mine.
The kiss was nothing like Lev’s. Lev’s had been all strength and raw emotion. Roman’s was all chaos—hot and wild and hungry. His hand fisted in my hair as if he needed to remind himself that I was real, and I melted into him.
When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested against mine, our breaths tangled. “You’re never doing that again,” he said softly. “I don’t care what the mission is, what the plan is—you jump into the ocean again, and I’ll tie you to my bed next time.”
“Promise?” I teased weakly, my lips brushing his.
He smiled, that dangerous, crooked smile I’d missed more than I wanted to admit. “Don’t tempt me, Kara-with-a-K.”
Behind us, Lev cleared his throat, that rare flicker of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You two done?”
Roman shot him a look. “Shut up and get us out of here.”
Lev strode to the controls and slammed the throttle forward, and the twin engines screamed an enthusiastic answer.
The speedboat shot across the dark waves, slicing through the water so fast that spray turned to glitter in the moonlight.
The air tore at my hair and filled my lungs with salt and adrenaline.
Behind us, the cargo ship loomed like a wounded giant, its hull burning in half a dozen places, orange fire licking up into the night.
Roman stood beside me, one hand gripping the railing, his other arm steady around my waist to keep me upright. “Hold on,” he shouted over the roar of the wind. “We’re not out of this yet!”
Overhead, the Revenant helicopter banked hard, its searchlights slicing through the smoke.
For a heartbeat, the world went still—the fire, the wind, even my own racing pulse.
Then a single object dropped from beneath the helicopter, spinning end over end until it disappeared into the belly of the ship.
Roman saw it, too. His warning yell was filled with urgency. “Brace!”
The explosion came a second later.
Light erupted behind us, so bright it turned the black ocean silver.
The shockwave hit like a fist, all heat and sound, slamming into my chest, rattling my teeth, stealing my breath.
The freighter’s deck split apart, a plume of flame punching through the smoke and rising into the sky.
A thunderous boom rolled across the water, echoing until it seemed like the sea itself was roaring.
The blast hurled debris into the air. There was a shower of steel shards, shattered wood, and pieces of a world that had tried to own me. For one impossible moment, the ship looked almost beautiful, a dying star exploding in fire.
I stared, wide-eyed, clinging to Roman as the wake from the explosion lifted our boat. The spray turned to rain, hot and cold all at once. Lev wrestled the wheel, muscles tight, keeping us ahead of the fiery wreckage collapsing behind us.
Then it was over. The roar faded into the hiss of waves swallowing flaming debris. The ship was gone, only burning scraps left floating on the dark surface.
I watched the flames fade into the horizon until they were nothing but a faint, distant glow. The wind whipped across my face, wild and alive.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t feel trapped.
I felt free.
Lev caught my gaze in the reflection of the console lights. “Next stop: home,” he offered in a reassuring tone.
I smiled, breathless, salt on my lips and fire still painting the night behind us. “Let’s go.”