Page 25 of Blade

She kept her eyes closed, savoring the moment. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so deeply, so peacefully. No nightmares. No jerking awake at every sound. Just... rest.

His chest rose and fell evenly beneath her cheek. Still asleep, then. She risked opening her eyes to peer up at him. In sleep, his face had lost some of its hardness. The perpetual vigilance that tightened his features was temporarily eased, making him look younger. More vulnerable. Long dark lashes rested against his cheeks, and his full lips were slightly parted.

He was handsome. Dangerously so.

As if sensing her scrutiny, his eyes fluttered open, immediately alert. His gaze locked with hers, and for a breathless moment, neither moved.

"Morning," he said, his voice rough with sleep.

"Morning," she replied, suddenly acutely aware of their position. Her body was draped half across his, her leg thrown over his thigh, his arm wrapped securely around her waist. "Sorry, I didn't mean to use you as a pillow all night."

His lips quirked. "You apologizing for sleeping well? Because I'm pretty sure that breaks rule one."

She couldn't help but smile at that. "I did sleep well. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He made no move to disentangle himself from her, and she found she wasn't in any hurry to move either.

A comfortable silence settled between them, the morning light filtering through the curtains and casting golden patternson the bed. It felt... right, somehow. As if they'd woken up together countless times before.

Which was a dangerous thought. Because this wasn't real. This wasn't her life. It was a temporary arrangement born of necessity and danger.

As if on cue, Blade's phone buzzed on the nightstand. The real-world intruding.

With a sigh, he reached for it, checking the message. His expression darkened immediately.

"What is it?" she asked, pushing herself upright.

"Update from Savage," he replied, his voice returning to its usual clipped efficiency. "They found more of Tim. Another finger on the clubhouse steps."

Her stomach lurched. "With a message?"

He nodded grimly. "'Day by day, piece by piece.' They're drawing it out. Making a show of it."

Bile rose in her throat. The brief peace of the morning shattered like glass. "They're torturing him because of me."

"No," Blade said firmly, sitting up fully and taking her face in his hands. "They're torturing him because they're sadistic bastards. Because he betrayed them. He’s an adult with choices. He could have walked away. Gone to the cops. Got his family into protective custody. He had options. None of this is on you, Lily. Remember that."

She wanted to believe him. Desperately wanted to absolve herself of the guilt. But how could she, when Tim's suffering was so directly linked to his choice to help her?

"What else did Savage say?" she asked, trying to focus on details, on facts, rather than the horrific images her mind was conjuring.

Blade hesitated, clearly debating how much to share.

"All of it," she insisted. "I need to know."

He sighed. "They're closing in on the mole. Savage thinks it might be Hammer. He transferred from another chapter, they’d vetted him, and we trusted their intel. He joined recently as one of our enforcers. He's been making a lot of cash withdrawals lately, taking calls in private. Could be nothing, but..."

"But it's suspicious," she finished for him.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Savage is going to try to plant one of those trackers on him today. See where he goes."

"And what about us?" she asked. "What's our next move?"

"For now, we stay put," Blade decided. "The cabin is secure. Moving you might be exactly what they want." He paused, then added, "Savage also sent some... intelligence they've gathered about you."

Her breath caught. "What kind of intelligence?"

"The Rejects have been talking. Word is, Zeb wants you brought to him alive. He's got... specific plans for you."

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