Page 88 of His Claim

She stared at me, the words sinking in. “What?”

“They’re demanding proof this alliance isn’t another trap,” I said. “If you go with her into the labs, it shows good faith. It gives them the sign they need to move, knowing we have their backs.”

Her voice dropped. “And if I don’t?”

“They won’t come. Then the Council will panic when we attack. They’ll dose every woman left in those cages before we reach them. We’ll fail.”

The quiet stretched between us, thick and heavy. She looked down, twisting the hem of her sleeve, then met my eyes again. “You hate the thought of me going.”

“I hate sending you in there, especially without me,” I admitted. “But I know you can do it.”

She let out a shaky breath. “You think I’m brave enough to walk back into a place like that?”

“You’ve fought a serum-enraged woman, a rogue wolf, and a cougar all on your own barehanded,” I said, leaning closer. “I’ve watched you survive the serum and come back whole. Brave doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Her lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You make it sound easy.”

“It won’t be,” I said. “Elsie knows the tunnels, and she’ll keep you close. But the rest…” I reached out, catching her hand. “Mariah, the rest, you’ll do the same thing you’ve been doing since the day I found you: you’ll survive.”

She turned her hand over and laced her fingers through mine. The tremor in her touch wasn’t fear—it was the anticipation of what we both knew was to come. “And you?” she asked.

“I’ll hit the city with Rowan and Silas,” I said. “We’ll focus on power, gates, communications. The Council won’t see you coming. You’ll have a window to destroy the stocks of both the fertility drug and however much of their version of the rage serum they’ve developed.”

“And if anything goes wrong?”

“Then I will come for you.” I vowed.

Her eyes shone in the lamplight, and she leaned forward until her forehead brushed mine. “I know you mean that,” she whispered. “But I also know you can’t save me from everything.”

“I’ll try anyway, no matter what. Until my dying breath.”

Her small laugh ghosted across my skin. “I guess that’s just what you do.”

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The tent rustled in the wind. The lamplight flickered, painting her face in gold and shadow. I could smell the earth and smoke in her hair, and the faint trace of pine on her skin.

I kissed her.

Gently.

Sweetly.

With all the love in the world that I had to give.

Her hands rose to my chest, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt. I wrapped my hands around her neck, cradling her head, my thumbs tracing the lines of her jaw. The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, the kind that tasted of the things we hadn’t said. The war outside faded until there was only her—her breath, her heartbeat, the soft sound she made when she finally exhaled against my mouth.

She pulled back a bit and her breath brushed against my lips. The air between us felt alive, humming with the quiet rhythm of two hearts trying to remember what peace felt like.

When she kissed me again, it wasn’t soft this time. It was desperate. My hands found her waist, fingers sliding over the warm skin beneath her shirt, feeling the faint shiver that followed my touch.

Her hands moved to the back of my neck, drawing me closer. The small lamp flickered, its glow catching on the rise and fall of her chest, turning her eyes into liquid emeralds.

“Varek,” she whispered, the sound of my name breaking something open inside me.

I pressed my forehead against hers. “You don’t know what you do to me,” I breathed.

Her mouth curved, teasing and brave. “I think I do.”

I pulled her back to me, kissing her until the air between us disappeared.