Something fragile moved across her expression.
“He followed me for years.”
“He hunted you.”
A pause.
Then quietly?—
“But he never had you.”
Emotion hit her face so fast I saw her trying not to cry again.
Hell.
I brushed rain-damp hair gently behind her ear.
The movement felt too intimate. It felt perfect.
Too natural.
Like my body already thought she belonged there.
“He won’t get close to you again,” I said softly.
“You can’t promise that.”
“Yes,” I said calmly. “I can.”
Because I already knew something she didn’t.
Shepherd made one critical mistake tonight.
He showed himself.
And once men like me locked onto a target?—
we didn’t stop.
Flick stared at me for a long second.
Then her fingers tightened around mine.
“You really would die for me.”
Not a question.
A realization.
I held her gaze.
“Without hesitation.”
Her breath caught visibly.
And before I could stop myself?—
before pain or logic or common sense could interfere?—
