Page 26 of Forest Reed (Seals on Fraiser Mountain #8)

Forest

The ranger outpost we used as a command post reeked of stale coffee and wet boots, but tonight it was war council. Maps littered the table, radios hissed with static, and everyone’s nerves ran thin as wire.

Jason leaned over the map, stabbing a finger at the gorge. “North’s testing us. Every move he’s made, he’s been watching how we respond. He knows our tempo, our weapons, our weak spots.”

Lane crossed her arms, jaw tight. “Then stop dancing to his music. We pull back, regroup with state, call in Feds, and put this mountain in a chokehold until he’s smoked out.”

“That’ll take weeks,” I said flatly. “And North’s not waiting weeks. He’ll vanish, and we’ll be left with bodies and questions.”

Zoe slammed a hand on the table. “We don’t have weeks.” Her eyes burned with fire, her voice sharper than any blade. “Every hour we wait is another chance for him to set up the next stage. He’s not hiding—he’s daring us to come after him.”

Jason studied her for a long beat, then nodded slowly. “She’s right. He wants pursuit. But if we’re smart, we turn that against him.”

I looked at him. “Meaning?”

“Meaning we lay a trail of our own,” Jason said. “Let him think he’s leading us where he wants, while we steer him into our noose instead.”

Lane’s mouth tightened. “You’re suggesting we bait a man who’s already three steps ahead?”

Jason’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’m suggesting we stop letting him write the script.”

Zoe’s hand brushed mine under the table, fierce and steady. She didn’t have to say it. I already knew. She wasn’t backing down—not from North, not from me.

I exhaled slow, heavy, my decision weighing like a trigger pull. “Fine. We hunt him. But we do it my way—quiet, patient, and final.”

Lane swore, pacing. Jason smirked like he’d been waiting to hear it. And Zoe—she leaned in, eyes fierce. “Then let’s find him before he writes the next act.”

The room buzzed with radios and tension, but in my gut, one truth settled like stone:

North wasn’t prey. He was a predator.

And we were stepping straight into his teeth.

Zoe

The others finally filed out, radios crackling, boots stomping across the porch. Jason shot me a look like he knew something was about to break loose, but he didn’t say a word. Then the door shut, and it was just me and Forest.

He stood at the map table, hands braced wide, shoulders tight as steel cables. “You can’t keep charging headfirst into his traps, Zoe. You’ll get yourself killed.”

My blood snapped hot. “Don’t you dare put this on me. You’re the one barreling after him like some mountain bull with a death wish!”

His head snapped up, eyes burning. “Because someone has to! And I’m not letting you be the bait he’s salivating over.”

I shoved him, hard, chest to chest. “You don’t let me do anything, Forest. I’m not yours to protect like some fragile thing you tuck away!”

His hands caught my arms, grip rough, holding me in place. “The hell you’re not mine.”

The air charged between us, hotter than the firefight, sharper than the blast at the dam. My heart hammered, fury and want tangling so tight I couldn’t tell one from the other.

I should’ve pushed him back. Should’ve walked away. Instead, I fisted his shirt and yanked him down into me.

The kiss was hard, angry, teeth and fire. His mouth crushed mine, fierce and claiming, and I gave back every ounce of it. His hands slid up into my hair, anchoring me, while my body pressed flush against his, desperate, reckless.

When he broke for breath, his voice was ragged, raw. “You drive me insane.”

I gasped against his lips, biting back a shaky laugh. “Good. Now you know how I feel.”

And then we stopped talking.

The map crumpled under my back as he lifted me onto the table, his body pinning mine, heat pouring through me in waves. Boots scuffed on wood, papers fluttered to the floor, and somewhere in the back of my mind I thought—if North wanted to see us break, he’d never get that satisfaction.

Because Forest and I didn’t break.

We burned.

His mouth claimed mine again, rough and demanding, like every word we’d thrown at each other needed burning out.

I yanked at his shirt, fingers fisting in the fabric until it tore loose from his waistband.

He growled into the kiss, deep and low, then lifted me higher on the table, spreading maps and radios to the floor with one sweep of his arm.

“Forest—” I gasped as his lips traced down my throat, his beard scraping heat into my skin.

“You don’t listen,” he muttered against me, his voice dark, vibrating through my bones. His hands slid under my jacket, palms hot on my ribs. “You never listen.”

“Then make me,” I hissed, arching into him, daring him.

He did.

His mouth found mine again, hard enough to bruise, while his hands stripped my jacket and shirt in one furious motion. My breath caught as cool air hit bare skin, then his heat was on me again, pinning me, grounding me.

I clawed at his belt, ripping it loose, every move fast and desperate.

The table creaked under us as he shoved my legs apart, stepping between them like he’d been born to fit there.

His hands gripped my thighs, pulling me closer, until I felt the solid, undeniable truth of just how much he wanted me.

“Forest,” I whispered, not angry now, not even close.

His eyes met mine, blazing with something that was equal parts fury and devotion. “You’re mine, Zoe. Always.”

The words undid me.

He surged into me in one fierce motion, and the world fractured. My cry broke against his mouth as he swallowed it, devouring me like he couldn’t get close enough. Every thrust was rough, urgent, but underneath the anger was desperation—like he had to prove I was here, alive, his.

I clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, back arching as the table rattled under us. My body moved with his, every slam and drag winding me tighter, pulling me to the edge.

“Say it,” he demanded, breath ragged. “Say you’re mine.”

I bit his lip, tasting copper and fire. “Always.”

He groaned, the sound ripped from his chest, and then we were both lost. The world narrowed to heat and heartbeat, to the pounding rhythm of us breaking apart and holding together all at once.

When it ended, when the quake left us shaking and breathless, he stayed there—forehead pressed to mine, sweat and soot and salt on our lips.

No more words. No apologies. Just the raw, unshakable truth between us.

And outside, in the quiet woods beyond the station walls, I couldn’t shake the feeling that North was still watching.