Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
I swallow hard, forcing a shaky smile.
But do I? The lodge looms closer, and I can feel the warmth of the place radiating out, beckoning me forward. My legs feel heavy, the fear of the unknown curling tight in my stomach. This is Hunter’s world—a world of strength, certainty, and protection. I don’t know if there’s room for someone like me, someone still tangled in her own fears.
As we step onto the porch, the door swings open, and a tall figure appears in the doorway. For a second, my heart stops, my body going rigid with shock.
Cyrus.
His face is twisted with a mixture of worry and anger. “Lark!” he shouts, stepping forward, his hand reaching out like he’s about to grab me. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
Panic hits me hard and fast, my chest tightening, breath coming in short, shallow gasps. My instinct is to flee, to find the nearest shadow and disappear into it. I stumble back, my vision blurring, the familiar dread washing over me.
But before I can even think to move, Hunter’s arm is around me, his body a solid, immovable barrier between me and Cyrus. “Back off,” he snarls, his voice low and lethal.
Cyrus freezes, his eyes narrowing. “Who the hell are you?” he demands, his tone dripping with disdain.
“Her protector,” Hunter says coldly, his muscles coiled with barely restrained fury. “You want to come near her? You’ll have to go through me.”
Cyrus sneers, his gaze flicking between us. “Lark, you can’t hide out here forever,” he spits, his voice a mix of anger and desperation. “You know you belong with me.”
The words are like acid, each one tearing at the fragile sense of safety I’ve tried to build. I press closer to Hunter, my fingers clutching the back of his jacket.
“Please, make him go,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
Hunter’s gaze never leaves Cyrus, his expression darkening. “You heard her,” he growls. “Leave. Now.”
Cyrus takes a step forward, defiance burning in his eyes. “Or what?” he taunts, his voice low. “You think you can stop me?”
That’s all it takes. Hunter moves faster than I can process, his fist connecting with Cyrus’s jaw in a blur of motion. The sound of the impact echoes off the wooden beams of the lodge. Cyrus stumbles back, shock and pain written across his face.
“You touch her, you threaten her, you even look at her wrong again, and I’ll bury you,” Hunter promises, his voice cold, deadly.
Cyrus scrambles to his feet, his expression a mix of rage and fear. “You’re making a big mistake,” he hisses, wiping blood from his mouth. “She’s mine.”
Something inside me snaps at those words, the possessiveness, the arrogance. “I’m not yours,” I shout, the words coming out more forcefully than I expect. “I never was!”
Hunter steps closer to Cyrus, his body a wall of fury. “You heard her,” he says, his tone dangerously low. “Now get the hell out of here before I call the police.”
For a moment, Cyrus looks like he might argue, but then he turns on his heel, his movements stiff with anger.
“This isn’t over, Lark,” he throws over his shoulder before disappearing down the path.
“The hell it isn’t,” Hunter calls back. “Watch your back, mother fucker. Watch your back.” Something in the way Hunter levels his warning tells me this certainly isn’t over–not for him anyway. His fists clench at his sides as he watches Cyrus limp away.
The moment Cyrus is gone, my knees give out, and I sink to the ground, the adrenaline leaving me shaky and exhausted. Hunter’s arms are around me in an instant, holding me steady, his touch firm, reassuring. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice rough but gentle. “He’s gone.”
I cling to him, my body trembling, my breathing uneven. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”
He pulls back slightly, his gaze intense. “You’re not the trouble, Lark,” he says firmly. “He is.”
I look away, the guilt weighing heavy on me. “You didn’t have to do that,” I whisper. “You didn’t have to protect me.”
Hunter’s fingers tilt my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Yes, I did,” he says simply, his voice filled with conviction. “Because you’re worth it and he needs to pay for what he did to you. I should have killed him, Lark. I wanted to.” His eyes darken, a mix of anger and tenderness. “I’ve seen what he does to you,” he says, his voice rough.
The confession sends a jolt of warmth through me, a flicker of hope amidst the chaos. “I don’t know how to do this,” I admit, my voice shaking. “My dad was so abusive when I was growing up, I wasn’t even allowed to have a job–he expected me to go to school, go to church, and spend the rest of my time at home taking care of him. So I just…got fed up one night and left two days after I turned eighteen. And then Cyrus picked me up at the truck stop when I was hitchhiking out of town–I was trying to get to Denver–I thought if I could just get to the university campus I could get a job and start the process of admissions, but instead I wound up here…lost in the mountains.”