Page 113 of Hunted to Be Mine

“I couldn’t. I had to sell it. Dresner needed to believe I was just another Blackout. If he suspected—”

He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to.

My fingertips traced his jaw again; tension coiled there. “All this time? You’ve been pretending the whole time?”

He nodded, a muscle ticking. “Hardest thing I’ve ever done. Watching you unravel in that lab. Watching you stumble in that hallway. And then…” His voice thinned. “Watching you fall and doing nothing. Standing there while you—”

The pain in it made my grip tighten.

“Every instinct said to move, to catch you. But if I had broken character, he would’ve known. He’d reset me for real, and then I wouldn’t be able to get you out.”

“Get me out?” The words scraped. “How?”

“I came to play a long game.” His eyes cut to the door again. “Learn the protocols. Wait for the perfect crack. When you fell… I needed a new plan. Fast.”

My mind kicked into professional gear despite the chaos. “You’ve been watching for an opening.”

“Yes. Any opening.” His thumb brushed away a tear I hadn’t noticed. “I was ordered to leave and get Dresner from the airport as he took an early flight here. But I stalled and saw Blackout leave fifteen minutes ago. It was my chance.”

I clutched his hand through the ache. “How long?”

“I don’t know where he was going so we have to act now.” His attention flicked to the monitor and back. “A nurse rounds every thirty. She checked you twenty minutes ago. That gives us—”

“Ten minutes until she returns.” Calculations snapped into place. “And then?”

“Then we move.” A flicker of a smile. “The rest is… flexible.”

I pushed up. Pain flared along my ribs. He braced me with careful pressure.

“I’m not in fighting shape.” I glanced at the cast. Sitting up made the room tilt.

“You don’t have to fight. That’s on me.”

He slipped into the tiny bathroom and came back with a small duffel I hadn’t clocked. He set it on the chair, unzipped it. Clothes: loose jeans, a soft sweater, socks, slip-ons.

“Where did those come from?” Hope and suspicion tangled.

“Staff locker room.” His face stayed composed, but a spark lit behind his eyes—his old dark humor surfacing. “Hospital security is less of a challenge than Oblivion’s.”

A broken laugh jammed in my throat and came out rough. “I thought I’d lost you,” I whispered. “I thought you were gone.”

His gaze found mine, gray and intent. “Part of me is missing. There are gaps. Blank spaces. But you—” He caught my hand, gentle despite the strength there. “You’re the constant. They couldn’t erase you.”

Something tight in me eased, a knot I’d carried since he collapsed in that garage. I grabbed his shirt with my good hand.

“Kiss me,” I whispered. “I need to know you’re here.”

Only a heartbeat passed before his mouth met mine. Desperate. Certain. The world slid back into place.

He kissed me like air, and I took him in. His hands framed my face with impossible care, a contrast to the fierce press of his mouth.

I kissed him back and let pain fall away—the ribs, the cast, all of it.

The reality crashed over us again. We were still inside Oblivion’s web. The monitor sped up, tattling my pulse.

“Shh.” He brushed a softer kiss across my lips. “We have a plan. We have time. First, rest until the nurse returns.”

He eased me down, arranged the blanket, pushed hair from my face. “Save your strength,” he whispered. “When she leaves, we will go.”