Page 56 of Marked to Be Mine (Erased #1)

Maeve

I stared at the mansion’s silhouette, a dark scar against the fading night sky. The humid air clung to my skin, making my shirt a second unwanted layer. Every breath tasted of bougainvillea and something metallic—fear, maybe. Or resolve.

“Remember,” Ronan whispered, his voice barely audible above the hum of distant security patrols, “you have exactly ninety seconds between camera sweeps.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. The Ronan beside me bore little resemblance to the man who had held me hours ago.

His eyes had gone flat, calculating, his movements deliberate and economical.

Nothing wasted. Nothing human left exposed.

Even the way he crouched behind the stone perimeter wall spoke of years of training—muscles coiled, ready to spring with lethal force.

He pointed toward a small opening halfway up the eastern wall. “That’s your entry point.”

I followed his gaze to what appeared to be a ventilation duct barely wider than my shoulders. “That’s… not very big. ”

“It’s why you’re going in, not me.” His mouth quirked slightly. “You’re softer.”

I bristled at that, narrowing my eyes at him. “Softer? Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?”

His expression relaxed slightly, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. It was rare enough that I almost forgot my irritation.

“Don’t worry about fitting through,” he continued, pushing his luck. “Not like at the motel with that service wall.”

“I did not...” I started to protest, but he cut me off.

“There’s nothing wrong with your hips,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “You’ll fit. I’ve had them in my hands often enough to know by now.”

Heat rushed to my face. The casual reference to our intimacy caught me off guard, especially in the middle of what was essentially a last-minute mission briefing.

His jaw tightened, his eyes turning serious again. “The air conditioning system feeds directly into the security hub. Once inside, you’ll have three minutes to plant the override module on their biometric panel.”

“Before the system realizes there’s an anomaly in the airflow,” I finished, remembering our briefing.

He nodded once, sharp and efficient.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I mentally retraced the route.

Get through the vent. Cross to the security panel.

Override the biometrics. Open the south entry.

Relay information to Ronan and Specter. And if lucky, find information about Xavier, and where he might be.

Simple. Except for all the ways it could go catastrophically wrong.

A beam of light cut through the darkness, sweeping over the landscaping to our right.

Ronan reacted with jarring speed, wrapping one arm around my waist and pulling me deeper into the shadows behind a cluster of flowering shrubs.

His body pressed against mine, a living shield.

I froze, not daring to breathe as the guard passed barely ten feet from us, his footsteps crunching on gravel.

Ronan’s heartbeat remained steady against my back while mine threatened to give us away. The guard paused, scanning the area, his flashlight beam traveling dangerously close to our hiding spot. Finally, after what felt like years, he continued his patrol around the corner.

Ronan released me, and I inhaled shakily.

“Let’s go through it again,” he said, voice tight with what I now recognized as concern masquerading as professionalism. “Once you’re through the duct, you’ll enter a maintenance closet. The security hub is directly across the hallway.”

“I know,” I interrupted gently. “We’ve been over this six times.”

His eyes flicked toward the ventilation duct again, calculating dangers, measuring risks. Risks to me that he couldn’t control. My stomach tightened at the realization of how badly he wanted to take my place.

He reached into his pocket and produced a small flesh-colored device. “Put this in your ear so all three of us can communicate. ”

His fingers brushed against the sensitive skin behind my earlobe as he positioned the comm device, lingering a half-second longer than necessary. The touch anchored me.

“This,” he said, placing a slim black tool in my palm, “will bypass the biometric scanner. Just hold it against the panel for five seconds.”

I closed my fingers around it, noting the cameras disguised as landscape lighting throughout the property, the nearly invisible motion sensors nestled among tropical plants. This place was a fortress disguised as a luxury home.

The wood-paneled security hub held more than just access to the building—it might contain the key to finding Xavier and ending this nightmare.

I steadied my breathing as Ronan checked his watch, his profile sharp against the gradually brightening horizon. The mansion loomed ahead, all clean lines and glass, deceptively beautiful for something that housed so much darkness.

“Once you’re in the security hub, barricade the door,” Ronan said, his voice dropping to that dangerous whisper that somehow carried perfectly to my ears.

“If there’s a metal filing cabinet you can drag across the entrance, do it.

They’ll have a key. It won’t hold forever, but it’ll buy you time if they realize something’s wrong. ”

I nodded, counting down the seconds until I needed to move. My pulse thrummed in my throat.

“If you get compromised…” His jaw tightened, a muscle flickering beneath his skin. “Get out. Don’t wait for the extraction signal. ”

“I know the plan,” I whispered back, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

His fingers wrapped around my wrist, grip firm but not painful. “Maeve.” His eyes searched mine with an intensity that knocked the air from my lungs. “You can still back out. No one would blame you.”

And he was right. I knew it. He wouldn’t blame me. My brother wouldn’t blame me, either. In fact, he’d be furious to know I was putting myself in danger like this in the first place. He’d want me as far away as possible—to protect me.

But now, the time had come for me to protect him.

If I didn’t fight for him, no one would.

And if we didn’t fight for the dozens—maybe hundreds—of others being stripped of their identities and turned into weapons, they’d be left to themselves, stuck in a nightmare of a life. This was much bigger than I. I knew that. I couldn’t let my own fear get in the way of that.

I reached up, fingertips brushing against the stubble on Ronan’s jaw. The contrast between this tenderness and the brutal efficiency I’d seen him capable of still startled me.

“I’m seeing this through,” I told him, my voice steadier than I felt. “Besides, someone needs to save your ass if things go sideways.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips.

“And if Brock gets in my way,” I continued, “I’ll put a bullet in him myself.”

At Brock’s name, something shifted in Ronan’s expression—the warmth draining away, replaced by something cold and empty. For a split second, I glimpsed the weapon Oblivion created, and it chilled me deeper than any threat.

Then it was gone, and he pulled me against him, mouth finding mine with desperate need.

I melted into him, memorizing the feel of his body against mine, aware that this might be our last moment of connection.

His hand cradled the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as if he could keep me anchored to him through sheer force of will.

Time slowed, stretched, compressed. Every point of contact between us burned with unspoken words. I wanted to tell him—

“If you two are finished with the goodbye scene,” Specter’s sardonic voice crackled through our earpieces, “we have a timeline to keep.”

Ronan pulled back, his breathing ragged. “Ninety seconds between camera sweeps,” he reminded me, thumbs brushing over my cheekbones. “Remember which systems to disable first.”

“The cameras disguised as decorative lighting,” I finished for him. “Then the motion sensors, then the door locks.”

His eyes held mine. “If comms go down...”

“I make for the south exit in exactly fifteen minutes, not before, not after.”

He nodded once, sharp and efficient. Professional again, except for the lingering warmth in his gaze. His hand slid down my arm, fingers tangling with mine for one last moment before reluctantly releasing me.

“Go,” he whispered .

I turned away, my skin instantly cold where his touch had been. The ventilation shaft waited, partially concealed by ornamental palms. I moved toward it alone, leaving Ronan behind in our momentary sanctuary, determination and fear my only companions now.

I watched Ronan slide into position at the edge of our cover, his body tense with coiled energy. He raised three fingers, eyes locked on his watch.

“Three,” he whispered. “Two. One.”

My muscles tightened, ready to spring.

“Now.”

I bolted from our hiding place, keeping low as I sprinted across the exposed ground. Each footfall felt thunderous in my ears despite my efforts to step lightly.

I reached the concealing bush, dropping to my knees beside the ventilation trap. My fingers found the edges, feeling for the release mechanism Specter had described.

“Forty seconds,” Ronan’s voice crackled in my ear.

I located the hidden catch, pressing it firmly. The grate gave way with surprising ease, revealing a square of absolute darkness. My stomach tightened. The opening looked even smaller up close, a claustrophobe’s nightmare.

“Thirty seconds.”

I pulled myself up, wedging my shoulders through the opening first. The metal frame scraped against my back through the thin fabric of my shirt. For one panicked moment, I thought I might get stuck, but I twisted my body sideways and slipped through.

“Ten seconds. You need to replace the grate. ”

My hands fumbled in the darkness, finding the edges of the covering. I clicked it back into place, hearing a soft click as it locked. I was committed now.

“The camera’s back online. You’re clear for now,” Ronan confirmed. “Move forward twelve feet, then take the first right.”