Chapter 110 Adam
Adam
Her kiss lingered, soft this time, not fire but something steadier—like a vow whispered into the dark. I rested my forehead against hers, breathing her in, the salt of her skin, the warmth of her breath.
“You scare me too, Raine,” I murmured.
Her brows lifted, faint surprise flickering in those fierce eyes. “Me?”
“Yeah.” My thumb traced the curve of her cheek. “Because you make me want things I stopped believing I could have. A life that isn’t just war. Someone who sees more than the scars. Someone who…” I exhaled, rough, the words catching. “…someone who could be mine.”
Her lips parted, eyes glistening in the slivers of moonlight. For a second, she didn’t speak, and the silence pressed heavy. Then she whispered, “I already am.”
The words hit me harder than the firefight ever could.
I kissed her then, not with hunger but with reverence, slow and aching. She melted into me, her body curling against mine, her heartbeat steady against my chest.
“Say it again,” I rasped.
Her hand slid up my neck, fingers threading into my hair. “I’m yours, Adam. Even when I’m afraid. Even when this fight drags us under. I’ll still be yours.”
I closed my eyes, the weight of it burning hot and sharp. Because I’d been trained my whole life to fight wars, not to keep love alive in the middle of them. And yet here she was, proving both were possible.
“You’re mine,” I whispered back, my voice low and certain. “Not just tonight. Not just until the mission ends. Always.”
Her breath caught, and for the first time, I saw Raine Carter—the soldier, the survivor, the woman—let the walls fall all the way down.
We held each other tighter, tangled in the dark, the war outside kept at bay for one stolen night.
And I knew: whatever waited for us at dawn, whatever hell came next—this, right here, was worth fighting for.