Page 119 of Hunted to Be Mine

Honesty like a blade. It cut straight through me.

My vision stung. I cupped his face with my good hand and the edge of my cast. Rough stubble grazed my palm.

“You gambled everything on that?” My voice shook. “Do you understand how terrifying that is?”

“For you or for me?”

“Both.” My thumb slid along his cheekbone, warm skin under my hand. “I’ve spent years studying how fragile the mind is, how easily it breaks. And you trusted yours to hold onto me through all of it.”

“You’re the only real thing they couldn’t touch.” He didn’t look away. “The only constant worth keeping.”

I leaned in until our foreheads met.

“I love you, Wolfe. God help me, I love you.”

We stayed there a moment, quiet, breath mingling, the cabin narrowing to skin and heat and the weight of what I’d said.

I eased back, wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, and tried a shaky smile.

“So,” I said, rough-voiced. “That happened.”

He didn’t move, eyes locked on mine, intensity steady enough to shake me loose again.

“Say something,” I managed. “Please.”

His thumb brushed away a tear I’d missed. “You love me.”

Not a question. He tested the words like they might break and found they didn’t.

“Yes.” No point pretending. “Terrible timing.”

“Why terrible?”

“We’re fugitives. My arm’s in pieces. A psychopath wants to erase you and dissect me. Pick one.”

His mouth curved. “None of those sound like real objections.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you love me anyway.”

A jolt hit somewhere under my ribs. “Yes. And what you did was still monumentally stupid.”

“Probably.” The ghost of a smile lingered.

“Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t promise something I can’t keep.” He took my hand, his fingers warm around mine. “I’ll always come for you, Selina. No matter what it costs.”

I wanted to argue—wanted to tell him what it did to me to watch them strap him down and believe I’d lost him. But the look in his eyes stopped me. This wasn’t Specter, the operative, making a tactical move. This was Wolfe, the man, choosing.

“I really want to stay mad at you,” I muttered.

“I know.” His thumb traced slow circles across my palm.

“You’re making it difficult.”

“I know that too.”