Chapter 14 Lena
Lena
Location: Extraction Route, Upper Mountain Tunnels
My lungs burn as Ronan pulls me toward the stairwell, but I don’t let go of him. I can’t.
His hand is wrapped around mine, warm and unyielding, grounding me in a world that suddenly feels real again.
The Delta Five come into view— Aaron at the front, Miles directly behind him, Jase covering the flank.
For a second, they all freeze.
They stare at me.
Alive.
Broken.
Standing beside Ronan.
Aaron’s shoulders drop in a visible exhale. Jase looks away, jaw tight. Miles mutters something like a prayer. River actually smiles.
But it’s Ronan who speaks first, voice steady, still holding my hand like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered.
“Subject Hart secured. She’s coming with us.”
Aaron steps forward. “Lena, can you walk?”
“She’s fine,” Ronan answers before I can.
I squeeze his hand lightly. “I can walk.”
Barely.
Pain blooms in my ribs. My knees feel like cracked glass. Every step feels borrowed.
But I walk because I want to — and because Ronan doesn’t let go.
Aaron moves closer, studying me with sharp, assessing eyes. “We’ve got a medic station set up at the secondary exit. We’ll get you treated immediately.”
“I don’t need—”
“Yes, you do,” Ronan cuts in, voice leaving no room for compromise.
The others exchange a look — a silent, collective oh-okay-he’s-in-that-deep.
Heat creeps up my neck.
Ronan doesn’t notice. Or maybe he does, and he doesn’t care.
He just adjusts his grip, pulling me gently behind him as they start moving.
We climb through the tunnel system — concrete turning to rock, rock turning to ice. The air grows colder the closer we get to the exit. My legs shake, my breathing turning shallow again.
Ronan notices instantly.
He stops.
He cups the side of my face with the gentlest touch I’ve felt in months. “Lena. Look at me.”
I do.
His gaze is intense, fierce, and soft all at once. I’ve never seen a man look at me like that. Like I matter. Like I’m not just someone to rescue — but someone he crossed a mountain for.
“You’re safe,” he says. “Every step from here is out. You hear me? Out.”
My throat tightens. “I hear you.”
“Good.”
He steps closer. “Lean on me.”
I hesitate.
Not because I don’t want to — because I want it too much.
But my body answers first. I sway. He catches me instantly, pulling my arm around his waist, supporting nearly all my weight.
The others politely pretend not to notice.
Except Miles, who grins and murmurs, “Knew it.”
Ronan shoots him a look that could peel paint. Miles clears his throat and hustles ahead.
We keep moving.
Every noise — every drip of water, every clatter of gear, every echoing footstep — makes my heart jump. Instinct drilled into me during weeks of captivity.
Ronan feels it.
He shifts, putting his body between mine and every open space.
When we reach the final ascent ladder, he pauses again.
“Ronan…” I start, but he’s already scooping me into his arms.
I gasp. “I can climb that.”
“You could,” he says, “but you’re not going to.”
“Ronan—”
“Not negotiating, Hart.”
I could argue.
I don’t.
My arms slip around his neck as he climbs, muscles straining under me, breath steady. His strength feels endless — like nothing could pull him from this ladder, from this mission, from me.
We reach the top, and cold mountain air hits my face like a blessing.
Fresh air.
Real air.
I choke on it, overwhelmed.
Ronan sets me down gently, hands still hovering at my waist as if he expects me to shatter.
I don’t shatter.
But I reach for him again.
He lets me.
Cyclone and Faron emerge from the snow-covered ridge, hauling gear and covering the rear.
Cyclone jogs over, his eyes widening. “Hart… damn. You’re tough as hell.”
I almost laugh — but the sound sticks in my throat as a tremor runs through my body. My eyes burn. My breath stutters.
Too fast.
Too much.
Too everything.
Ronan steps in front of me, blocking the others from view, shielding me. His voice drops low.
“Lena. Look at me.”
I do. Because I always do.
His gloved hand brushes my cheek. “You’re okay.”
But my chest tightens.
“Am I?” My voice cracks. “Because it doesn’t feel like it.”
He doesn’t flinch. He closes the distance and rests his forehead against mine — warm, steady, unshakable.
“You are,” he whispers. “Because you’re with me.”
My fingers curl into his jacket, anchoring myself.
His breath catches, just barely.
And in that quiet, icy moment on the mountain, surrounded by the Golden Team, and the Delta Five and the wreckage of what I survived…
I believe him.
“Let’s get you home,” he murmurs.
Home.
I don’t know what that word means anymore.
But standing here, pressed against Ronan’s chest, his heartbeat steady beneath my palms…
I think I might want to find out.