Page 102 of Taken

I pull her against me, inhaling her scent, remembering the tremors of pleasure in her limbs. The fading mark on her neck stares back at me, accusing and promising all at once.

What the hell is going on with me?

“That’s the only kind worth making,” I tell her, and lead her toward whatever comes next.

Chapter 28

Lila

“Move! Now!”

The shout tears through the cabin, followed by boots hammering wooden floors. I’m shoving clothes into a backpack—clothes I didn’t own yesterday, that someone else picked for me—when Talon bursts through the door.

“Three minutes,” he says, voice clipped. His eyes catch mine, something electric passing between us. The ghost of his touch still burns on my skin. “You good?”

“Been better,” I say, zipping the pack. “Been worse, too.”

A hint of a smile touches his lips, there and gone in a heartbeat. My body remembers his hands, his mouth, the press of him inside me just twenty minutes ago. Before alarms shattered the moment, before reality crashed back in with Syndicate boots on the mountain.

Freedom’s leash never stretches far, does it?

“Hargen?” I ask, slinging the pack over my shoulder, wincing as tight muscles protest.

“Already in transport two.” Talon checks his weapon, all business now despite the heat still lingering in his eyes when they meet mine. “He’s mobile enough but not happy about being separated from you.”

Something twists in my chest. Hargen. The ritual revealed too much—his memories, his feelings for me. Feelings I’m not sure I return, especially after what just happened with Talon. Guilt gnaws at me.

“Will he be okay?”

“He’s with Zoe.” Talon helps me into a jacket that’s too big but blissfully warm. “She’s the best we have. She’ll get him out.”

Shouting echoes from outside. Through the window, I glimpse figures racing between cabins, loading vehicles, coordinating evacuation. The sanctuary betrayed after barely three days.

Could it be me?

I don’t want to think about it.

Outside, the air bites with mountain cold. A wintry sun paints the peaks in pale gold, beauty at odds with the tactical tension unfolding beneath it. Four black SUVs idle in formation, engines rumbling. Aurora operatives move briskly, loading equipment, checking weapons, establishing a perimeter.

“Transport one,” Talon directs, guiding me toward the lead vehicle.

My legs feel steadier than earlier but still weak. A life of captivity doesn’t vanish in a week. I slide into the backseat, Talon following, his body warm beside mine. Close. Protective, but not confining.

“All assets secured,” someone reports from the front seat. “Transports two through four ready to roll.”

“Execute.” The driver starts moving before the word fully leaves Talon’s mouth.

We lurch forward, tires crunching through fresh snow. I twist in my seat, watching the sanctuary shrink behind us—those precious cabins, that glimpse of normal life, of peace. Gone already.

“They’re heading toward the north ridge,” reports the operative monitoring communications. “Six-vehicle convoy, heavy tactical presence.”

“We had a day’s head start,” Talon mutters, tension radiating from him. “How did they catch up so fast?”

“Tracker?” I suggest, mind racing through possibilities. “In the Shard, maybe?”

His eyes sharpen. “Did they ever implant anything in you?”

The question lands like a punch. I hadn’t considered that possibility.

---