The growl of approaching engines shattered the fragile peace of the cabin.
Brandon moved fast, a storm in human form.
He shoved Ariana behind the heavy oak table, flipping it onto its side to create a makeshift shield.
"Stay down," he ordered, voice lethal. "No matter what you hear, you don't move unless I tell you."
Ariana nodded, heart hammering so hard she thought it might crack her ribs.
Brandon kissed her — hard, rough, desperate — and then he was gone, melting into the shadows like a wraith.
She tucked herself into the corner, gripping the blanket tightly, every nerve on fire.
Through the window, headlights slashed across the yard.
Men poured from three black vans, armed and moving with military precision.
Ariana recognized one of them instantly.
James.
Even from a distance, she could feel his twisted gaze searching for her, claiming her without touching her.
She shuddered and pressed herself flatter to the floor.
Brandon will protect me.
She repeated it like a prayer.
---
Outside, Brandon moved like a phantom.
Silent. Deadly.
He picked off two men before they even knew he was there, knives flashing silver in the dark.
Their bodies crumpled silently into the mud.
But there were too many.
A flashbang grenade arced through the window.
Brandon cursed and hurled a chair into the air, knocking the grenade off course — but the blast still rocked the cabin.
Ariana screamed, ears ringing.
Before she could recover, the front door exploded inward.
Smoke and shouting filled the room.
Brandon fought like a demon, brutal and efficient.
But he was one man against an army.
Ariana scrambled for cover as gunfire shattered the windows, splinters raining down on her.
James strode in through the chaos, untouched by the violence swirling around him.
He spotted her instantly, a slow, triumphant smile curling his lips.
"Baby," he crooned. "I've missed you."
Ariana recoiled.
"Stay away from me!"
James just laughed.
"You don't mean that. You're just confused. Let me remind you."
He reached for her —
And Brandon tackled him from the side.
The two men hit the floor hard, fists flying.
Brandon was bigger, stronger, better — but James fought dirty, landing a vicious punch to Brandon's ribs that made him grunt.
They grappled, rolling through the broken glass.
Ariana watched in horror, paralyzed.
James landed a blow that snapped Brandon's head back — and then pulled a knife from his belt.
"No!" Ariana screamed.
She grabbed the nearest thing she could — a broken table leg — and swung it with all her strength.
It caught James across the temple with a sickening crack.
He dropped like a stone.
Brandon scrambled to his feet, blood dripping from his lip.
He pulled Ariana into his arms, clutching her like a lifeline.
"Are you okay?" he rasped.
She nodded, sobbing.
Behind them, James groaned, starting to stir.
Brandon turned, murder in his eyes.
"No," Ariana said, grabbing his arm. "Don't kill him."
Brandon froze.
For a long moment, he just stared at her, breathing hard.
Then he nodded, once, sharply.
He tied James's wrists with a length of rope ripped from the curtains, jerking it tight enough to make James whimper.
"You'll live," Brandon growled. "But you'll wish you hadn't."
---
They left the cabin behind, flames licking at the roof.
Brandon tossed Ariana into the SUV and roared down the mountain road, never looking back.
Her body shook uncontrollably, the adrenaline crash hitting her like a freight train.
Brandon reached over, squeezing her hand.
"I've got you," he said fiercely. "You're safe."
She wanted to believe him.
But she knew — deep down — that this was only the beginning.
---
They reached a safehouse before dawn — a sleek glass-and-steel fortress hidden deep in the woods.
Brandon carried Ariana inside, setting her gently on the couch.
He barked orders into his phone, summoning doctors, cleaners, reinforcements.
Then he knelt in front of her, brushing the hair from her face.
"You're bleeding," he said softly.
Ariana touched her forehead, wincing when her fingers came away red.
"I'm fine," she said.
Brandon didn't look convinced.
He stripped off her ruined sweater, his touch gentle but firm.
When he found a cut along her ribs, he cursed viciously under his breath.
"You should have let me kill him."
Ariana cupped his face in her hands.
"I didn't want more blood on our hands," she whispered. "I didn't want you to lose yourself for me."
Brandon closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, they were raw with emotion.
"I already have," he said.
---
The doctor arrived and patched her up while Brandon hovered like a furious guardian angel.
Afterward, Ariana insisted on a shower.
Brandon carried her there too, ignoring her protests.
He stripped them both and led her under the hot spray, cradling her against his chest.
They didn't speak.
They just stood there, letting the water wash away the blood, the fear, the night.
Eventually, Ariana tilted her head back, searching his face.
"You saved me," she said.
Brandon's throat worked.
"You saved me," he rasped.
And then he kissed her — slow, deep, reverent.
They made love under the water, bodies sliding together slick and hot.
It wasn't frantic like before.
It was worship.
A claiming.
A promise.
---
Afterward, wrapped in towels, they curled up together on the bed.
Brandon tucked her against his chest, his heartbeat a steady drum beneath her ear.
"I need to ask you something," he said after a long moment.
Ariana lifted her head, heart skipping.
"Anything."
Brandon met her gaze, his own fierce and tender.
"Stay with me. Not just until this is over. Forever."
Ariana's breath caught.
"I..."
Tears blurred her vision.
"I love you, Brandon."
The words slipped out without thought, pure and true.
Brandon sucked in a sharp breath.
Then he crushed her to him, burying his face in her hair.
"I love you too, little star," he whispered. "More than life. More than blood."
He pulled back just enough to slip something cool and hard onto her finger.
A ring.
Simple, elegant, beautiful.
Just like her.
Ariana gasped.
"Brandon..."
He pressed his forehead to hers.
"Marry me."
She laughed through her tears.
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes!"
He kissed her again, slow and deep, sealing the vow between them.
---
But far away, in the ruins of the cabin, a phone buzzed.
A shadowy figure picked it up, glancing at the screen.
A text flashed:
"Marshall took her. Plan B."
The figure smiled coldly.
The game wasn't over.
It had only just begun.