Page 74 of Hunted to Be Mine
She propped on an elbow, looking down at me. Her hair fell forward, closing us in. “Does it need a definition?”
I tucked a strand behind her ear. “In my world, everything needs parameters. Boundaries. Rules of engagement.”
A small smile touched her mouth. “Is that what I am? An engagement?”
“You’re…” I searched for words I’d never been taught. “You’re the only real thing I’ve got. The only thing that makes me feel human.”
Her face softened, and she leaned down to kiss me. “You were always human. They just made you forget.”
Pressure built in my chest again, not all bad. “I don’t deserve this,” I said. “You. After everything I’ve done…”
She touched a finger to my lips. “You don’t get to decide what you deserve. Not anymore.”
A whistle sounded somewhere ahead, thin in the night. Outside, the world slid by in shadows and smears of light. Between places. Between names. Between the weapon they built and the man I might claw back.
With Selina warm in my arms, the in-between felt less like a void and more like a door.
She shifted, finally easing off with a soft sigh. She didn’t go far. Curled into my side, head on my shoulder, one leg over mine. I pulled the thin blanket up and tucked it around us. A small, temporary cocoon.
“We should sleep,” she murmured, already fading. “Long day tomorrow.”
I nodded and stroked her hair. Sleep shouldn’t have been possible with what waited us. With her weight anchoring me, heat against my skin, my eyes grew heavy anyway.
The train rocked on, steady as a pulse. In the dark, between where we’d been and where we were going, I let myself want something I wasn’t supposed to have.
I closed my eyes and let sleep take me, Selina safe in my arms.
Chapter 17
Selina
The water stain on the ceiling looked like a map to somewhere I’d never want to go. I’d stared at it for an eternity. Evening pushed shadows across the dingy Zagreb hotel room, and the blot darkened with them.
Close to four hours had passed since Specter had slipped out with a kiss and a promise to be quick. Routine surveillance, he’d said. Simple perimeter check of the first warehouse Damon had flagged. No engagement, no risks. Blah, blah, blah.
My watch slid beyond the mark. I paced the narrow strip between bed and window—peeling wallpaper, old water damage tracking down the wall in thin lines. The single lamp cast more shadow than light, and the room seemed to contract. After three terrible places in a row, I swore I’d blow money on a ridiculous hotel when this ended. Deep bathtub. Room service for days.
A noise in the hallway made me go still. I listened hard. Just the ice machine. Not his steps. Not him.
My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten since the stale train-station sandwiches. I dug in my bag and pulled out vending-machine chips. The foil crackled loudly when I tore it open.
First bite: dust and salt. I kept chewing, eyes on the crude map Specter had sketched before he left. Two industrial warehouses circled in ballpoint, possible Oblivion transfer sites from Damon. The first was marked with an X. The site Specter went to “check from the outside only.” That was hours ago.
He had slid the gun into his waistband. “Just sight lines and access points. Back before you know it.”
I crunched another stale chip. The cheap burner phone on the nightstand stayed dark. No messages. No calls.
Suppose something went wrong. Say Blackout recovered faster than we had expected. And if—
No. Stop. Professional detachment. Clinical assessment. Not the time to spiral.
I forced my mind to the trip here. The cramped train compartment that had turned into a temporary refuge. The gentle sway that rocked us to sleep after we’d… Heat climbed my neck. His body moving against mine in the dark. His voice rough, my name on his lips. The care he took with his ribs even then.
I’d watched his face soften as he slept. The vigilant operative gone for a while, replaced by something quieter. Almost calm.
The contrast constricted my chest. Whatever boundaries I’d drawn were gone, and I was in uncharted territory. What was I now? Not just his doctor. Not just an ally. Something deeper. More complicated. More dangerous.
I checked my watch. Three hours, seventeen minutes.
