Our noses bump, and his laugh sounds breathless. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Hurry up and kiss me.”

He tightens his arms around me and touches his lips to mine. His kiss is rough, tastes like lake water … and is the best thing I’ve ever felt. I press against him, consuming him like I’ll never get enough, and when we break apart, my pulse pounds against my ear, and his chest rises and falls like he’s been running.

“Done yet?” Willow calls from somewhere behind me. I hear Quinn shush her, but I don’t care.

Because Logan is looking at me like I’m precious to him. And the silence inside me cracks open, just a little. Just enough to let a small piece of hope float to the surface. I grab on to it with desperate fingers.

He keeps one hand on the small of my back and uses the other to trace the Celtic knot on the necklace he gave me the day of the Claiming ceremony.

“I promised to always find you, remember?”

“I remember.”

“I promised I would always protect you. You’ve been wounded badly because I failed to keep that promise.”

I shake my head, and the tears spill over, scalding my cheeks with heat.

“But I won’t fail you in this, Rachel. No matter what has happened. No matter what you’ve done. No matter what you will do. I will always love you. I swear it.”

His hand clenches around the pendant, and he leans down to capture my gaze with his. “I will always love you.”

His arms flex, pulling me against his chest, and his lips hover just above mine, our breath mingling in the dazzling morning air.

“I love you,” he whispers and then he kisses me again, his lips rough against mine, his breathing ragged as he devours my fear and makes me long to feel this way forever.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

LOGAN

We don’t push ourselves on the return trip to Baalboden. I tell Rachel it’s to let my rib heal, and I think she believes me. But really, I just want time with her. Time to lie next to her at night, holding her against me while I watch the rotation of the stars. Time to walk beside her during the day and try to draw her into conversation so we can get what has hurt her out into the open, where it can start to heal.

I ache to hear her tell me she loves me, but forcing her to put words to how she feels pushes her further into the silence she seems comfortable calling home now. I tell myself to be patient and understanding, but inside there’s a longing only those words will fill, and it hurts to ignore it.

I’m restless. Hungry for something she keeps just out of my reach. It doesn’t help that Quinn and Willow are traveling with us. As grateful as I am for their assistance, having others within earshot cuts down significantly on the things I’d like to share with Rachel. So, at the end of another day’s journey, when Willow announces she wants meat for dinner and is going hunting, I look Quinn straight in the eye and say, “You should go with her.”

“Logan.” Rachel puts her hand on my arm.

“I don’t need help bringing down a rabbit,” Willow says.

“But there might be highwaymen out there. Or more trackers from Rowansmark. It never hurts to be cautious.” I look at Quinn. “You should go.”

They all stare at me in silence for a second before Willow says, “Why don’t you just come right out and say, ‘Hey, I want private time with Rachel so I can kiss her senseless like I did at the lake’?”

“Willow!” Quinn frowns at her.

“That’s not what he meant,” Rachel says, refusing to look at me.

Willow laughs. “Yes, it is. He’s itching to get his hands on you without an audience.”

“That’s not what he meant,” Rachel says again, pink flushing her cheeks.

“Actually, I meant—” I start to say, but Willow cuts me off.

“What? It’s true. He looks at you like he’d like to dip you in sugar and eat you up.”

“Willow Runningbrook, that’s enough.” Quinn’s eyes flash, and I catch a glimpse of something feral beneath his smooth exterior. It’s gone as soon as I see it, submerged beneath the calm he wears like a second skin.

Willow tosses her hands into the air. “Apparently, honesty is a crime in this group. Look.” She points at Rachel. “You’re all, ‘Revenge is all I want! I’ll figure out my love life later!’ and he”—she points to me—“is afraid revenge will kill you before he has a chance to really touch you—”

“No, he isn’t.”

I step forward. “Willow has a point.”

“Willow needs to learn to share only those observations that others ask her to share.” Quinn steps forward as well.

Willow shrugs and shoulders her bow. “I got tired of tiptoeing around the obvious.” She winks at me. “How much time do you need to kiss her senseless?”

“He’s not going to—”

“At least an hour,” I say, dragging Rachel into my arms and kissing her before she can say another word.

I don’t hear Willow leave or Quinn follow her. I can’t hear anything beyond the wild pounding of my heart and the soft catch of Rachel’s breath as I fist my hands in the back of her tunic and pull her against me like I can’t stand to have a single sliver of air between us.

“Logan.” Her voice is as shaky as the hand she puts on my chest, and I can’t bear it. I can’t bear to hear her tell me to stop. To pull back. I can’t bear to be apart from her when she’s all I have.