Page 55 of Claimed By the Wraiths

“How long?” she said.

“Four hours until the Raptor hits.”

I pressed my forehead against hers. My whole body was protesting. Every instinct was protesting.

“Jessa.”

“I know.” Her voice cracked. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

She kissed me once more. Slow, this time. Deliberate.

Her thumb tracing the silver line along my jaw. Memorizing.

Then she pulled back.

I set her down. My arms didn’t want to let go. Nothing in me wanted to let go.

She slid down my body and the friction sent one last wave of sensation through the connection that made both of us catch our breath.

She picked up her shirt. Pulled it on. I watched her hands smooth the fabric and wanted to take it off again so badly my vision went white.

I found my shirt. Put it on. Stood in the cell, breathing hard.

“You mapped the facility,” I said. My voice wasn’t steady.

“I mapped the facility.”

“You built a network.”

“I built a network.”

“You were never a prisoner.”

She put her hand on my chest. The place where her palm had first touched bare skin.

“I was a prisoner with a job to do.”

I covered her hand with mine. “Jessa.”

“There was a moment,” she said. Quiet. Her face changed.

The operational Jessa, the one who counted guards and built networks and ran logistics, stepped back. Just for a moment. Just enough.

“After Vain showed me his facility and the door locked behind me. I sat on this bench and I couldn’t remember why I was supposed to be strong. I couldn’t remember what the plan was. I just knew I was alone in a cell and nobody was coming.”

I tightened my hand over hers.

“And then I felt something warm. Somewhere out in the dark, too far away to make sense.” She looked at where our hands overlapped, hers against my chest, mine over hers. “And I thought, that’s not possible. And I held onto it anyway. Because the alternative was breaking.”

“That was me.”

“I know that now.” She looked up. Her mask was off.

No operational assessment. No inventory. No logistics.

Just Jessa. Tired and scared and brave and here.

“I held onto it because it felt familiar. It felt like the late watch. It felt like you.”