Chapter 7

7

PHOEBE

P hoebe stumbled as her foot caught on a loose rock, and her hands flew out to catch herself. Jonah’s arm shot out before she hit the ground, his grip firm around her waist as he steadied her.

“You need to focus,” he said, frustration coloring the tone of her voice. “I can’t keep you alive if you don’t pay attention.”

“I’m trying,” Phoebe laughed, thinking how appropriate it was that in her dream he had been a snow leopard.

“What’s so funny?”

“Sorry. Nothing. Just a dream I had.” Her ribs ached, her legs felt like lead, and the relentless pace he was setting didn’t help. “It’s been a long day, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Jonah’s expression didn’t soften. “If they catch us, I suspect it’ll be a whole lot shorter,” he said flatly. “Now, keep moving.”

He released her and turned back in the direction they’d been heading, his broad shoulders cutting an imposing figure against the fading light. Phoebe exhaled sharply, forcing her legs to keep moving. The weight of the flight computer hidden in her jacket pocket felt heavier with every step, and the ache in her ribs and arm was a constant reminder of just how vulnerable she was.

She hated the feeling. Hated relying on someone else to keep her alive. But Jonah... Jonah was relentless. He didn’t slow, didn’t falter, and his determination was infuriatingly infectious. Even now, when exhaustion tugged at every fiber of her being, she couldn’t bring herself to stop—not when he kept going like nothing could touch him.

“You’re not human, are you?” she muttered under her breath as she struggled to keep up.

Jonah glanced back at her, his brows lifting slightly. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, though the heat creeping up her neck betrayed her embarrassment.

He stopped abruptly, turning to face her. “If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

Phoebe hesitated, the weight of his gaze making her pulse quicken. “I just don’t understand how you’re not tired. You’ve been dragging me up and down mountains, through streams, over rocks, and who knows how many miles of forest, and you’re not even winded.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “Because I know what happens if we stop.”

Phoebe’s temper flared, but before she could snap back, Jonah stepped closer, his voice softening just enough to catch her off guard. “You’re tougher than you think,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity she could feel in her core. “But you need to keep going. I’m not losing you out here.”

The quiet passion in his voice sent a shiver down her spine, and she couldn’t look away. There was something in his gaze—something raw and unyielding—that made arousal surge through her system. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Good,” Jonah said, his tone gruff again as he turned back to the trail. “Let’s go.”

They walked for hours, weaving through the wilderness in a deliberate, erratic path designed to throw off their pursuers. Jonah led them through streams, the icy water biting at Phoebe’s legs and soaking her boots, but he didn’t pause. They climbed rocky inclines, ducked beneath low-hanging branches, and doubled back twice to cover their tracks. Every step was calculated, every decision made with precision.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, Phoebe’s body was screaming for rest. Her ribs throbbed, her legs burned, and her shoulders ached from the constant tension. She stumbled again, catching herself against a tree, and this time, Jonah didn’t snap at her.

“We’re close,” he said instead, his voice steady. “There’s a cabin up ahead. It’s old, but it’ll give us some cover for the night.”

Phoebe nodded, too tired to respond. She followed him through the dense underbrush until the faint outline of the cabin came into view. It was small and weathered, the wood dark with age, but it looked sturdy enough. Jonah pushed the door open with a creak, stepping inside and scanning the space with the sharp efficiency she was beginning to associate with him.

“Clear,” he said, turning back to her. “Come on.”

Phoebe stepped inside, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. The cabin was sparse—just a table, a few shelves, a fireplace, a cookstove, and a single, large bed pushed against the far wall. She eyed it warily, then glanced at Jonah.

He caught her eye and shrugged, his expression unreadable. “You’re injured. You should take it.”

“What about you?” she asked, crossing her arms despite the ache in her ribs.

“I’ll manage,” he said simply, setting his pack down near the door.

Phoebe frowned, watching him as he moved to check the window, his broad frame silhouetted against the faint glow of the late afternoon sun. He was always in control, always thinking three steps ahead, and it was maddening. But it was also... something else. Something that made her glad that of all the men in the world, it was Jonah who had found her. Every time he spoke in that low, steady voice that left no room for argument he also provided a bit of solace.

“Try and take it easy. I’m going to go see what I can find us for dinner. If you’re up to it, see what might be here. Some of these ‘hunters’ replenish the supplies that are used but check expiration date. But your primary job is to rest so you can sleep well tonight,” Jonah said, breaking her train of thought. He turned to face her. “We’ll need to move again at first light.”

He moved to the kitchen area and primed the hand pump, working on it until he had water flowing. He cupped some in his hand and sipped. “The water looks like it’s from a well. I’ve got some purification tablets, but I’d rather save them for anything we have to get from a stream or snow we might have to melt. I think we can trust what we get from here for tonight and in the morning.”

Phoebe hesitated and then nodded. “Jonah,” she said quietly, her voice softer than she intended.

“What?” His gaze didn’t waver, but there was something in his tone—something almost vulnerable.

“Thank you,” she said, her throat tightening. “For... everything. I’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

His jaw tightened, and she thought he might brush her off. But then he stepped closer, his voice low and rough. “Don’t thank me yet. When we get to safety, then you can thank me. For now, just stay alive.”

Phoebe’s breath hitched as he stood over her, his presence overwhelming. The heat radiating from him was a stark contrast to the chill in the air, and she felt her pulse quicken as his eyes lingered on hers, something unspoken passing between them.

“Get some rest,” he said finally, stepping back. “I won’t go too far, and I shouldn’t be long.”

Phoebe nodded, her heart racing as she sat on the edge of the surprisingly comfortable mattress. Not content to be the damsel in distress, she listened as Jonah’s footsteps faded into the forest. The cabin was still and quiet, save for the occasional creak of wood settling under its own weight. She rubbed her hands together, trying to bring some warmth back into her fingers. Her gaze wandered to the wood stove in the corner, an idea forming in her mind.

She rose, wincing slightly as her ribs protested, and crossed the room to inspect the stove. Inside, a neat stack of dry kindling and logs awaited use. She grabbed a few pieces, arranging them carefully, and struck a match she’d found in a rusted tin on the shelf. Within moments, a flickering flame grew into a comforting fire, spreading warmth through the small space.

Encouraged, Phoebe moved to the old hand pump and sink. She worked the handle, gritting her teeth as her arms protested the effort. At first, water only sputtered out, but then began to flow steadily into the basin below. She smiled in triumph, filling a dented tin cup she’d found and taking a tentative sip. The water was cold and fresh, a small victory in a day that had felt like endless defeat.

Her exploration of the shelves revealed an unopened can of coffee, its label faded but still intact. She set it on the small counter near the stove, imagining the possibility of warmth and caffeine for the first time in what felt like forever. The small comforts brought a flicker of hope that she hadn’t realized she needed.

When the door creaked open, Phoebe turned to see Jonah stepping inside, his arms full. He carried a skinned and cleaned rabbit, its pale flesh glinting faintly in the firelight.

“You’ve been busy,” he remarked, scanning the now-warm room and the bubbling pump.

Phoebe shrugged, brushing her hands against her jacket. “Figured I’d make myself useful.”

Jonah gave her a small nod of approval, setting the rabbit down on the counter. “Good. I’ll take care of this.”

He worked with quick, efficient movements, cutting the rabbit into portions and skewering the meat onto a makeshift spit. He positioned it over the fire, the smell of cooking meat soon filling the cabin.

As they sat to eat, the silence between them felt heavier than before. Phoebe picked at the tender rabbit, her mind turning over thoughts she’d buried for years. Jonah ate methodically, his focus unbroken, until she finally broke the quiet.

“My dad was in the Air Force,” she said, her voice quieter than she intended. “He was a colonel. The kind of man who thought discipline and duty were everything. Growing up, it felt like I wasn’t his daughter—I was his soldier in training.”

Jonah glanced at her, his expression unreadable but his attention unwavering. “Tough upbringing.”

Phoebe huffed a humorless laugh. “That’s one way to put it. He didn’t care about feelings or connections. Just results. And when I didn’t re-enlist after my tour, he... cut me off. Disowned me, essentially.”

Jonah’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“I thought leaving the military would free me from his shadow,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “But it didn’t. Every decision I’ve made since has been about proving I’m good enough without him. That I’m strong on my own.”

Jonah set his plate aside, leaning forward slightly. “Sounds like you’ve been carrying that for a long time.”

Phoebe nodded, her throat tightening. “I thought I’d buried it. But out here... with everything happening, it feels like it’s all coming back.”

Jonah’s gaze softened, though his voice remained steady. “I know what that’s like.”

Phoebe tilted her head, her brows knitting together. “Do you?”

He leaned back, his eyes darkening. “My father died in these mountains. Officially, it was an accident—he was testing survival gear for the military. He went out and never came back. They never found his body, just his gear, scattered like it had been left there deliberately.”

Phoebe’s chest tightened. “You don’t believe it was an accident.”

Jonah shook his head. “No. He was too careful, too experienced. And now, seeing what’s happening to you... I can’t ignore the possibility that whoever’s after you might have been involved.”

The revelation hung between them, sinking into the small space. Phoebe’s mind raced, connecting threads that hadn’t been there before.

“Jonah,” she said softly, her voice laced with uncertainty. “What if... what if this isn’t just about the Ghosthawk? What if it’s something bigger?”

He didn’t answer right away, his jaw tightening as he stared into the fire. “Then we make sure they don’t win,” he said finally, his voice low and leaving no question in her mind that he was in it for the duration.

The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine, but Phoebe forced herself to smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, since we’re sharing secrets... I should tell you about my dream.”

Jonah raised an eyebrow, his expression cautious. “Dream?”

She leaned forward slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Yeah. Last night. It was weird and sexy all at once.”

His brow furrowed, but his interest was clearly piqued. “How so?”

Phoebe grinned, feeling a strange sense of relief in the teasing. “There was a snow leopard. Gorgeous, powerful. It was surrounded by this swirling storm—colors, lightning, thunder. And then... it wasn’t a leopard anymore.”

Jonah’s shoulders stiffened slightly, and his body went still, his gaze narrowing. “What was it?”

“You,” she laughed. She shook her head. “I don’t know why, but... it felt so real. Like you were right there, watching me.”

Jonah’s lips parted slightly, but he didn’t speak.

“Anyway,” she said quickly, sitting back. “It was probably just my brain trying to process all the crazy.”

Jonah shook his head slightly, his voice rough when he finally spoke. “Or maybe it wasn’t just ‘the crazy;’ maybe it was your subconscious trying to tell you something.”

Phoebe’s eyes snapped to his. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t answer, not directly. Instead, he stood, pacing toward the window. “Doesn’t matter. Try and get some rest,” he said gruffly, his back to her. “We need to leave at first light.”

Phoebe stared at him for the longest time, but he didn’t turn back to her. He was one of the most frustrating people she’d ever met. She stripped her clothes off, setting her socks, boots, and flight suit in front of the fire to dry. As she laid down and pulled the covers up, she realized she wasn’t just fighting to survive anymore. She was fighting for the connection she felt with Jonah. She didn’t fully understand it, but she didn’t want to ignore it.

She wasn’t sure if that terrified her or gave her strength. Hopefully the latter. Phoebe was pretty sure that before this was over, she was going to need both strength and courage… and the help of the man who stood by the window, watching the night begin to fall.