Page 27

“Nobody asks me what I want,” she said. “My whole life, they’ve decided what’s best for me and handed me an order.” Her gaze held mine. “You just did it too. Decided I’m too hurt to know my own mind.”

That landed like a blow, because she was right.

I studied her there by the fire. “What do you want, Ruby?”

“I want to be here, in this hut, with you.” Her voice didn’t waver. “I’ve wanted your hands on me, even when I knew I shouldn’t. But every one of those shouldn’ts was built on a lie. Her lies.” She lifted her chin. “So now I’m free to make up my own mind.”

Hope rose in me so fast it hurt. I didn’t dare reach for it, not until I heard her say it. “What have you decided?”

She paused, watching me. “It’s simple, Conan. I. Want. You.”

My wolf surged. Every muscle in my body wanted to close the distance between us, and I held still. One more thing stood between us, and I owed her the truth. Always.

She saw it in my face. “What is it?”

“If we even survive the Order,” I said, “we have so much more to face. My pack will think I’ve lost my mind. That I’ve been turned by a field operative in a red cloak with a body count of wolves.”

She sighed and lowered her gaze. “Right.”

I swallowed hard. “And…”

“And?” She looked up at me.

“And it doesn’t change a damn thing.” My gaze dropped to her mouth. “For me, this is far more than physical. I think you should know that. How much I yearn for you.”

She turned toward the fire and then back to me. “I don’t want to think about tomorrow. I know what I want tonight.” A breath. “You.”

She stood on one side of the room, and I stood on the other, and suddenly the space between us mattered more than anything.

With a gleam in her eyes, she straightened and stepped forward. “Checkpoint one.”

Catching on, I took a step closer. “Go on.”

The firelight fell low across us from the side. She looked up into my face and tipped her chin, the way you do when you’re offering somebody your throat.

“The eyes,” she said. “Observed and stated.”

“So that I can see you.”

They were the same words I’d given her during the verification. They didn’t come out in the same tone.

“Checkpoint two.”

She closed the last of the distance, and I bent down to her. She put her mouth by my ear and spoke with barely any sound at all. “The ears.”

“So that I can hear you,” I said into her hair, and she made a small sound.

“Checkpoint three.”

She stepped back. She held my gaze before she took my hands and ran her thumb over my pulse. “The hands.” This time she didn’t stop at the scars. She turned my hands over and pressed her palms flat against mine. She laced her fingers through my fingers and drew my hands in, sliding them beneath her shirt to rest on her waist. Her skin was warm, and when I touched her, her breath went out of her in a rush.

“So that I can touch you,” I said.

Her forehead came down against my collarbone. I felt her heart hammering through the thin cotton, as fast as mine.

“Checkpoint four,” she said in a velvet whisper, the vibration of her words on my chest. She paused.

I slid my hand beneath her jaw and brought her face up. “Say the line.”