Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

L ark

The lodge rises out of the mist like a ghost—massive, imposing, and somehow comforting in its ruggedness. My steps falter as we approach. It's strange how something so simple—a building, a structure—can represent safety and yet feel so alien at the same time. The past few days with Hunter have been wild and raw, testing every ounce of my endurance, both physically and emotionally. Now, at the edge of civilization, I feel more lost than ever.

Hunter turns, his gaze catching mine.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice low and rough, still carrying the intensity of our journey.

I nod, but my throat tightens, the words sticking.

"Yeah," I lie, trying to sound sure.

He doesn't buy it. His eyes, dark and piercing, hold mine with a mix of concern and something softer—something that tugs at the edges of the wall I've tried to keep up. "You made it this far, Lark," he says, his tone steady. "You belong here."

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."

Hunter's grip tightens, his gaze steady. "Then let me help you," he says, his voice low but filled with determination. "Let me show you what it's like to be safe, to be wanted—for who you are, not what someone wants you to be. I promise—no bullshit. I was afraid that I'd hurt you before, but I trust you—I trust us and I'll do anything to make it up to you."

His words are a balm, a promise I'm not sure I deserve. But right now, I need to believe in something. I need to believe in him .

I lean into his touch, my forehead resting against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat grounding me. Hunter's arms wrap around me, holding me close. We stay like that for a long moment, the wind whispering through the trees, the lodge's sturdy walls sheltering us from the world outside. For the first time in a long time, I feel a flicker of safety, of belonging. It's fragile, tentative, but it's there.

Finally, I pull back, wiping at my tear-streaked cheeks with the back of my hand.

"I want to believe you," I say, my voice filled with a mix of hope and doubt.

Hunter's gaze is steady, unwavering. "Then do," he says simply. "Because I promise you, I'm not going anywhere and I'll remind you of that a hundred times each day if that's what it takes to make you believe it."

The promise is there, unspoken but strong, and I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips.

"Okay," I whisper, the word a tentative step forward.

Hunter's mouth curves into a slow smile, his eyes softening. "Good," he says, his voice low and rough as his gaze drops to my feet. "Because you look pretty damn sexy in my old work boots."

The intensity of his words sends a shiver down my spine, the warmth between us shifting, turning into something deeper, more real. I step closer, my hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my palm.

"Oh yeah, Mountain Man?" I whisper, my voice filled with the promise of pleasure. His hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing softly over my skin.

"Bet your ass, Sugar," he says, his voice a low rumble.

The air between us shifts again, the pull undeniable. I tilt my head up, my lips inches from his, the need to close the distance almost overwhelming.

"Hunter," I murmur, his name a mix of plea and desire.

He doesn't hesitate this time. His mouth finds mine in a slow, claiming kiss, filled with all the promises he's made and the ones he hasn't spoken yet. It's not desperate—it's real, steady, filled with the weight of everything we've been through.

When we finally break apart, our foreheads resting against each other, I know things won't be easy. I know there will be more challenges, more doubts. But for the first time, I feel like maybe, just maybe, I have a chance at something real.

And as Hunter's arms tighten around me, holding me close, a shiver of fear races through me. Can I really allow myself to hope?

"Hungry?" Food is the last thing on my mind when he's looking at me like that.

"For you," I giggle.

"Mm, you're dinner and dessert, baby." His hand slips under my skirt and he draws a fingertip under the hem of my panty. I quiver with the need to feel him closer everywhere. Pushing my teeth into my bottom lip, I rub my thighs together and resist the sigh that's begging to fall from my lips.

"Mm, I can't wait to get you naked and taste this sweet pussy again, baby."

"Well, I would hate to keep a hungry man waiting."

He grunts, locking our hands together before leading us back to the lodge. A minute later we're entering his bedroom—and he pins me against the closed door, yanking me to him in a way that makes my heart race with anticipation. He refuses to let me go. Even if I try to run, this man will catch me, he will always catch me and maybe that's why I shouldn't be afraid to fall. I've already fallen, he's already caught me once when triggers from my past got the better of me.

And now it's us.

Me and him.

"Welcome home, baby." His hands are already working under my skirt again, his thick erection between my thighs. I arch and moan, and he ducks his head under my sweater and latches onto my pebbled nipple.

I sigh when he nips against the fabric of my bra, then shoves shirt and bra over my head and discards it on the floor.

My entire body buzzes as one thought burns into my brain.

"Hunter, God I want you so much."

His lips suck at the line of my neck as his thumb and finger pinch and roll my nipple. I'm soaked, I can feel that my panties have done nothing to stop the wetness, and I'm almost embarrassed I'm so new at this.

He pauses his movement and hands as his eyes meet mine. A mischievous grin turns his lips before he breathes, "God you're so gorgeous when you're pussy is wet and turned on for me. I'll enjoy my dessert even more knowing I'm the only man in the world to taste it."

With that he slips a finger under my skirt and pulls my soaked panties down my thighs. His hand yanks at my hips and he pulls me over to the bed, positioning me with my ass in the air. I feel on display for him, shivering with need and warmth and anticipation.

"Mm, soaked and looking sweeter than candy." I can feel his eyes on my wet pussy before he draws one finger down the soaked crevice. "My sexy, soaking wet, Little Bird. I love seeing how turned on I make this delicious little pussy of yours."

I shiver, another rush of warmth flowing down my thighs. He rubs my bare ass cheek once, then gives it a soft slap. Next, I expect his finger, but instead I feel the flat warmth of his tongue trailing down my slit.

"Oh, God, yessss." Is all I can manage.

"Fuck, I can't wait to fill this hot pussy." Both of his hands are holding my ass now as he buries himself between my cheeks, tongue working me up and down and into a quivering mess. "Give me all of that sweet cream, babe. I want to see how much you want this."

His teeth slowly drag along my slit before he finds my clit and works it in furious strokes with his tongue and teeth. In quick succession a series of waves roll over my body, clenching my muscles and making me shiver and shake in ways I didn't know possible. My sighs turn to soft moans and still he continues to swirl and lick and eat me.

"Fuck, you're my favorite meal. I need you naked now." He whips me around so we're facing each other. His eyes careen down my body and my flesh pebbles with pleasure at his attention. "But keep the boots, gorgeous."