Chapter 14
Russ
We climb in silence.
Loose rock shifts beneath our boots while the wind cuts through the canyon hard enough to sting exposed skin. Every step has to be deliberate now.
One mistake out here gets people killed.
Below us, the scouts spread wider through the valley floor.
Too disciplined.
Too patient.
They’re not searching blind anymore.
They’re tracking.
I keep Olivia directly ahead of me.
Not accidental.
Close enough to catch if she slips again.
Close enough to stop her if she tries pushing past what her body can handle.
She hasn’t complained once since we started moving.
That worries me more than if she had.
“Careful,” I murmur as she edges across a narrow ledge.
“I’m fine.”
Automatic answer.
Her boot slips almost immediately afterward.
A sharp scrape against stone—
Then her balance goes.
I catch her before she falls.
My hand locks around her arm hard enough to steady both of us against the rock wall.
Her breath catches sharply.
Mine doesn’t even change.
“Slow down.”
“I had it.”
“No.” I keep my grip on her another second. “You didn’t.”
Her jaw tightens.
Waiting for the argument.
It never comes.
That’s worse.
We keep moving.
The ridge narrows until there’s barely room for single file. Jagged stone rises on one side while open drop stretches on the other.
Lucas suddenly raises a fist.
Everybody freezes instantly.
Ahead, he motions sharply toward a narrow crack in the rocks barely wide enough for a body.
Voices drift upward from below.
Too close.
“Inside,” Lucas whispers.
Clay slips in first.
Then Miles.
Then the civilians one by one.
When Olivia reaches the opening, her injured side catches the rock wall hard enough to make her suck in a sharp breath.
I grab her waist immediately and pull her the rest of the way in beside me.
There’s nowhere else to go.
The space is too tight.
Her body presses fully against mine the second I step in behind her.
Chest to chest.
No room between us.
Her breath brushes warm against my throat.
My hand stays locked around her waist automatically.
“Stay still,” I murmur near her ear.
“I’m trying.”
The words come thinner than normal.
Too fast.
I can feel her breathing against me.
Quick.
Uneven.
Outside the crack in the rocks, boots scrape against stone.
Closer.
My entire body tightens instantly.
A shadow passes across the narrow opening.
One of them.
Right there.
Olivia’s fingers fist tightly in the front of my shirt.
Not for balance.
Fear.
Pain.
Maybe both.
I shift instinctively, angling my body fully in front of hers to block as much of her as possible.
She notices immediately.
“You don’t have to—”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I do.”
The scout pauses outside.
Too long.
I can hear gravel crunch beneath his boots.
Hear the low murmur of voices farther down the ridge.
Nobody inside the crevice moves.
Nobody breathes.
Olivia presses closer without realizing it, her forehead brushing briefly against my jaw.
The contact shoots straight through me.
The scout turns slightly toward the rocks.
My grip tightens around Olivia instinctively.
If he looks up—
We’re done.
Then finally—
The footsteps move again.
Voices fade slowly down the canyon.
One second.
Two.
Five.
Nobody relaxes until Lucas gives a tiny nod from the front.
Clear.
The air leaves my lungs slowly.
Olivia still hasn’t let go of my shirt.
And I still haven’t moved my hand from her waist.
Bad idea.
Worse that I notice exactly how perfectly she fits against me.
“You okay?” I murmur quietly.
“Yeah.”
Lie.
I hear it in the tremor under the word.
Feel it in the way her fingers tighten again.
Her head tips slightly upward.
Close enough now that I can see every detail of her face despite the shadows.
Dust along her cheek.
Exhaustion in her eyes.
And something else.
Something softer.
“Russ…”
My name barely leaves her mouth.
That’s what breaks whatever restraint I had left.
Because I almost lost her again today.
Because she’s standing here alive and warm in my arms.
Because I’m done pretending this isn’t happening.
I lower my head slowly.
Enough time for her to stop me.
Enough time to pull away.
She doesn’t.
Her breath catches softly against my mouth.
That’s all it takes.
I kiss her.
Finally.
No interruptions.
No gunfire.
No almost.
Her mouth opens against mine instantly like she’s been holding this back as hard as I have.
Not hesitant.
Not cautious.
Just real.
My hand slides carefully along her waist, avoiding the bandage at her side while pulling her closer anyway.
She presses into me immediately.
Like she stopped fighting it too.
The rest of the world disappears.
No scouts.
No mission.
No danger.
Just Olivia against me, kissing me hard enough to make my head spin.
Her hands flatten against my chest, gripping tightly through my jacket like she needs something solid to hold onto.
I deepen the kiss without thinking.
And she lets me.
God, she lets me.
A soft broken breath escapes her.
Then suddenly she flinches.
Tiny movement.
Still enough.
Pain.
I pull back immediately.
Not far.
Just enough to look at her.
Her eyes stay closed for half a second longer before slowly opening.
And there it is.
Everything she’s been trying not to say.
Everything I already know.
Too late now.
Way too late.
“You’re hurt,” I murmur.
Her lips part slightly. “I don’t care.”
The words hit me straight in the chest.
I brush my forehead briefly against hers, fighting for control I’m dangerously close to losing.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I do.”
For one second, neither of us moves.
Then—
“Move.”
Lucas’s voice cuts through the rocks low and sharp.
Reality slams back in immediately.
I step away first because if I don’t, I’m kissing her again.
Olivia exhales slowly, trying to steady herself.
Trying to pull all those walls back into place.
Too late for that too.
“Stay close,” I tell her roughly.
Her eyes lift to mine.
She nods once.
No argument.
Good.
Because I’m not letting her out of reach again.
Not after today.
Not after that kiss.
We slip back out onto the ridge one by one and continue deeper into the mountains.
The hunt resumes immediately.
But everything feels different now.
Sharper.
More dangerous.
Because now it isn’t just about surviving.
Now there’s her.
And there’s no going back from this.