Wrapped in his embrace was a warrior, a strategist and a scrapper with a stout heart and a resilient mind. She would survive what she had seen, she would endure, not because she was a man. But because she was Kira, a woman.
The cathartic tears would cease, and his little soldier would appear.
Then together, side by side, they would save Nick from the predator who had likely planned Nick’s destruction from the first days they had met him.
Chapter 22
Euan
He was on his knees in a deserted car park, his arms wrapped around a woman that had defied every probability of success. The heat created by her body as she pressed against him was in contrast to the intermittent breeze that cooled the sweat on his forehead. There was a restlessness that quivered through his muscles, tainted the blood that thrummed within his veins. Rational thought had vanished, there was nothing in its place. His mind was vacant, unable to process the transition from unadulterated joy, to the black despair that it eclipsed even the pleasure of holding Kira safe, whole and unbroken in his arms.
It jarred him, shook the underpinnings to his soul. One half of him was secure, sheltered, uninjured. Safe. The other, he could not guess. Parker had Nick. Again. The unknown created its own terrible apprehension inside that gnawed and bit and terrorised.
The crease between Kira’s brows was pronounced. A single droplet of blood had stained the skin there. He licked the pad of his thumb and smoothed it over the furrow. When he had finished, both the discolouration and the frown were gone. ‘We’ll save him,’ he murmured, the rocks in his stomach settling. ‘Just like before, together we’ll bring him back from whatever they do to him.’
It echoed words Nick had said to him as Kira had been lost to them in a plume of exhaust. The reminder had him questioning everything. Their hopes, their dreams, their plans of a future together. Would he be forever fighting against hopelessness? Would he always dream of safety, only to constantly battle the effects of violence and torture? Would the walls they built to protect their souls eventually push everything out, including love? Their love?
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t endure another moment of this undefined torment where he prayed to gods he didn’t believe in for a future that seemed impossible to obtain.
He was sick of it. Sick down to the cement pit of despair that had hardened in his stomach. He would not continue down this path, where the prize for success was the broken pieces of his heart. They would move forward with the original plan and it would soon be over. He would make it so.
Resolved, he tightened his hold around Kira. She was a slight weight that clung to his larger body. One hand was in the tangled hair at her nape, her skin damp from the physical exertions of being lost and then found. He massaged the tight muscle in defined circles. Round and round, back and forth. It was a rhythm that calmed him, that centred his mind and directed the churn of his thoughts for their next steps.
Around them, evening was taking hold. The moon was a crescent shape of white light in a cloudy sky. It would leave no illumination for those on the ground. Night time in the wasteland of the warehouses would be pitch black and all-encompassing. It would be perfect for their plans.
‘Euan?’ Her voice was soft, a whisper over the thunder in his chest, a splinter of starlight to intimidate the darkness that threatened to smother his heart.
He tilted his head to look at her, study the features that were branded onto his retina. But he could hardly recognise her soft beauty through the bruises, the swelling, the blood that had dried to stain her skin the colour of rust. Her lip was split, what had leaked from it had dried in rivulets down her throat to be soaked into the neckline of her jacket.
Parker’s parasites had done this. They had touched her with the single intent to hurt her. For that alone, they would meet their apathetic gods and beg them for mercy, for Euan would show them none.
His mouth was full of words he could not voice. His infinite love for her. The rage at her injuries. The despair at the loss of Nicky. The fear of what the man would suffer under Parker’s terror. They choked him, stabbed his throat and tore at his tongue. He couldn’t talk, suddenly, he couldn’t fucking breathe.
Bloodstained hands were on his bearded cheeks. Kira’s forehead was pressed against his, her soothing murmurs touched warm air to his dry lips.
His hands glided up her forearms and held tight. She was his anchor in the storm. Her lips were wet when she pressed them to his. He tilted his head to accept the kiss. When her tongue teased his lips, the surge of his own emotion nearly overwhelmed him. He groaned, clutched her, took the offering of her mouth so he could draw more of her essence into his body.
In his arms, pressed against his chest, she shuddered as her emotion took hold. When a single sob broke from between their lips, his alpha instincts clicked back into place. Kira needed him, she needed his dominance, strength, and direction. She hurt as much as he did. She also feared for the man that they loved. What was worse, she was no longer naïve in knowing the types of horrors that he faced.
His hands slid from her forearms until they could wrap around her body once again. His muscles stretched the fabric of his sleeves as she buried deep. He brushed his lips over the crown of her head, rested his chin there. In this position, he was able to squeeze her hip bones, the fabric crunching under his palm.
He would hold her for eternity if he could. But Nick needed him. Them.
He reluctantly loosened his hold,
