Page 37 of Bride of Vengeance
"What is it?" Mariana asks, and I can hear the professional agent reasserting itself over the woman who was about to let me kiss her.
"Harrison's escalating. More federal resources, wider search parameters." I show her the message. "He's getting desperate."
"Good. Desperate people make mistakes."
"Desperate people also take unnecessary risks." I look at her seriously. "He's not going to stop until we're both dead. And he has resources we can't match through conventional channels."
"Then we don't use conventional channels."
The words surprise both of us. Agent Mariana Castillo, who's spent her career following federal protocols and proper procedures, just suggested abandoning the rulebook.
"What does that mean?"
"It means we fight dirty. We use your criminal contacts, your surveillance network, your methods." She meets my dark gaze steadily. "We do whatever it takes to stop him."
Whatever it takes.The phrase hangs between us like a bridge she's chosen to cross. From a federal agent to something more flexible. Something more dangerous.
Something more like me.
"That's not a decision to make lightly."
"Neither is letting him kill more innocent people while we follow protocols he's already subverted."
She's right.And hearing her say it, seeing her choose effectiveness over procedure, makes something fierce and possessive unfurl in my chest.
My little wolf. Growing teeth.
"Alright. We do this my way."
"Our way," she corrects, and the word choice makes heat spiral through me in ways that have nothing to do with professional partnership.
Our way.Like we're building something together. Like this crisis has forged us into a team that extends beyond necessity into something more personal.
"Our way," I agree.
She smiles, and the expression transforms her face from professional competence into something luminous. Something that makes me want to forget every reason this is dangerous and focus only on the woman who's choosing to trust me with her life and her principles.
You're falling for her.
The realization crashes over me with devastating clarity. Somewhere between watching her sleep and working beside her and seeing her choose justice over protocol, I've stopped thinking of her as the agent hunting me and started thinking of her as the woman I want to keep.
The woman I want to claim.
The possessive thought should disturb me. Should remind me that I'm a killer who lives in the shadows, not the kind of man who gets to keep beautiful federal agents. Should make me reconsider choices that could get us both killed.
Instead, it feels like the first honest thing I've thought in years.
Little wolf. You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into.
But as we return to building evidence against Harrison, working together with the seamless coordination of longtime partners, I realize something that should terrify me:
I don't want her to get out of it.
I want her to stay. In my safe house, in my life, in whatever future we can build once this crisis is resolved.
Even if it’s selfish. Even if it destroys us both.
6:45 PM
