Page 108 of The Hunter's Empire

Twice we double back after spotting patrols before they see us.

Once we spend nearly fifteen minutes lying motionless beneath thick undergrowth while two armed men pass close enough for me to hear fragments of their conversation.

Nico suddenly catches my arm and pulls me behind the trunk of a fallen tree just as another patrol appears over the ridge. There isn't enough room for both of us unless we're practically on top of each other, and before I can protest, he shifts me in front of him and crouches low.

"Don't move." He murmurs.

His arm settles around my waist, not gently but firmly, keeping me tucked against him as the men fan out through the trees only a few yards away.

I force myself to stay still.

His breathing is slow and controlled against my shoulder, completely at odds with the frantic rhythm of my own heart. I become painfully aware of every point of contact between us, of the warmth radiating from his body despite the cool shade beneath the trees, and of the steady pressure of his hand against my side. The tight space is forcing us so close together that if either of us moves even slightly, our lips might touch.

One wrong movement, one snapped branch, one careless breath, that's all it would take.

The voices grow louder as the patrol moves through the trees. One of the men stops so close that I can see the mud caked onto his boots through the gaps in the branches. Nobody speaks. Nobody moves.

Several agonizing seconds pass before the patrol finally continues deeper into the jungle. For a brief moment, neither of us says anything.

"What were you doing on my jet?" I ask quietly.

For a moment, Nico simply looks at me. His expression doesn't change, but something flickers behind his eyes before disappearing just as quickly.

"Not now."

The answer frustrates me more than outright refusal would. He knows exactly what I'm asking, and we both know this isn't the first time he's avoided giving me a real answer.

Before I can push further, his attention shifts past me. His gaze sweeps through the surrounding jungle, the brief moment of distraction already forgotten.

"We're wasting time hiding."

"What are you suggesting?"

"They have numbers." He says, glancing toward the direction the patrol disappeared. "We have terrain. If we keep running, they'll eventually corner us."

It only takes a second for me to understand where his thoughts are headed. " So we start hunting them."

A faint smile touches his face. "Exactly."

The afternoon becomes a blur of calculated risks. We stop thinking like prey and start thinking like predators, using the island against the people trying to kill us. Nico studies the terrain constantly, steering patrols toward unstable ground, narrow paths, and places where visibility works in our favor. Whenever an opportunity presents itself, we strike quickly and disappear before anyone realizes what happened.

The first man I take down happens almost by instinct. He separates from the rest of his team to investigate a noise deeper in the trees, and by the time he realizes he isn't alone, it's already too late.

When I slip back through the trees, Nico's eyes immediately find the blood on my knife.

"You didn't wait."

"I didn't need to."

A slow smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "One."

I frown. "One?"

"One body."

"You've started counting?"

"We're both competitive. We might as well be honest about it."