Hunter’s gaze never leaves Cyrus, his expression darkening. “You heard her,” he growls. “Leave. Now.”
Cyrus takes a step forward, defiance burning in his eyes. “Or what?” he taunts, his voice low. “You think you can stop me?”
That’s all it takes. Hunter moves faster than I can process, his fist connecting with Cyrus’s jaw in a blur of motion. The sound of the impact echoes off the wooden beams of the lodge. Cyrus stumbles back, shock and pain written across his face.
“You touch her, you threaten her, you evenlookat her wrong again, and I’ll bury you,” Hunter promises, his voice cold, deadly.
Cyrus scrambles to his feet, his expression a mix of rage and fear. “You’re making a big mistake,” he hisses, wiping blood from his mouth. “She’s mine.”
Something inside me snaps at those words, the possessiveness, the arrogance. “I’m not yours,” I shout, the words coming out more forcefully than I expect. “I never was!”
Hunter steps closer to Cyrus, his body a wall of fury. “You heard her,” he says, his tone dangerously low. “Now get the hell out of here before I call the police.”
For a moment, Cyrus looks like he might argue, but then he turns on his heel, his movements stiff with anger.
“This isn’t over, Lark,” he throws over his shoulder before disappearing down the path.
“The hell it isn’t,” Hunter calls back. “Watch your back, mother fucker. Watch your back.” Something in the way Hunter levels his warning tells me this certainly isn’t over–not for him anyway. His fists clench at his sides as he watches Cyrus limp away.
The moment Cyrus is gone, my knees give out, and I sink to the ground, the adrenaline leaving me shaky and exhausted. Hunter’s arms are around me in an instant, holding me steady, his touch firm, reassuring. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice rough but gentle. “He’s gone.”
I cling to him, my body trembling, my breathing uneven. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”
He pulls back slightly, his gaze intense. “You’re not the trouble, Lark,” he says firmly. “He is.”
I look away, the guilt weighing heavy on me. “You didn’t have to do that,” I whisper. “You didn’t have to protect me.”
Hunter’s fingers tilt my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Yes, I did,” he says simply, his voice filled with conviction. “Because you’re worth it and he needs to pay for what he did to you. I should have killed him, Lark. I wanted to.” His eyes darken, a mix of anger and tenderness. “I’ve seen what he does to you,” he says, his voice rough.
The confession sends a jolt of warmth through me, a flicker of hope amidst the chaos. “I don’t know how to do this,” I admit, my voice shaking. “My dad was so abusive when I was growing up, I wasn’t even allowed to have a job–he expected me to go to school, go to church, and spend the rest of my time at home taking care of him. So I just…got fed up one night and left two days after I turned eighteen. And then Cyrus picked me up at the truck stop when I was hitchhiking out of town–I was trying to get to Denver–I thought if I could just get to the university campus I could get a job and start the process of admissions, but instead I wound up here…lost in the mountains.”
Hunter’s grip tightens, his gaze steady. “Then let me help you,” he says, his voice low but filled with determination. “Let me show you what it’s like to be safe, to be wanted—for who you are, not what someone wants you to be. I promise—no bullshit. I was afraid that I’d hurt you before, but I trust you—I trust us and I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”
His words are a balm, a promise I’m not sure I deserve. But right now, I need to believe in something. I need to believe inhim.
I lean into his touch, my forehead resting against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat grounding me. Hunter’s arms wrap around me, holding me close. We stay like that for a long moment, the wind whispering through the trees, the lodge’s sturdy walls sheltering us from the world outside. For the first time in a long time, I feel a flicker of safety, of belonging. It’s fragile, tentative, but it’s there.
Finally, I pull back, wiping at my tear-streaked cheeks with the back of my hand.
“I want to believe you,” I say, my voice filled with a mix of hope and doubt.
Hunter’s gaze is steady, unwavering. “Then do,” he says simply. “Because I promise you, I’m not going anywhere and I’ll remind you of that a hundred times each day if that’s what it takes to make you believe it.”
The promise is there, unspoken but strong, and I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips.
“Okay,” I whisper, the word a tentative step forward.
Hunter’s mouth curves into a slow smile, his eyes softening. “Good,” he says, his voice low and rough as his gaze drops to my feet. “Because you look pretty damn sexy in my old work boots.”
The intensity of his words sends a shiver down my spine, the warmth between us shifting, turning into something deeper, more real. I step closer, my hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my palm.
“Oh yeah, Mountain Man?” I whisper, my voice filled with the promise of pleasure. His hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing softly over my skin.
“Bet your ass, Sugar,” he says, his voice a low rumble.
The air between us shifts again, the pull undeniable. I tilt my head up, my lips inches from his, the need to close the distance almost overwhelming.
“Hunter,” I murmur, his name a mix of plea and desire.
