Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 42128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)
The intensity of my reaction to him terrified me almost as much as the memories of what Dr. Kinghorn had done to me.
He shifted slightly and reached for my other arm, then carefully checked the scrapes along my forearms. His expression never changed, but I could feel the intensity rolling off him. When he shifted our positions so he could check the soles of my feet, heat rushed into my cheeks. I pressed my thighs together without thinking, embarrassed by how aware I was of every point where our bodies touched.
“You’re tough.” His eyes were still locked on my injuries like he was memorizing every mark on me. “Most people would’ve fallen apart after what you went through.”
I tried to ignore the way my pulse fluttered at the low rumble of his voice so close to my ear. I knew instinctively that this man was dangerous. But the way his rough hands turned gentle when he touched me and his cold eyes softened just slightly when they met mine made something deep inside me want to lean into him even more.
Every careful stroke of his fingers across my skin only made the feeling inside me grow stronger.
He finished checking the last of my scrapes and finally lifted his gaze to mine again. Up close, his eyes were even more striking. Especially since they were completely focused on me.
“I’m Soren Halvorsen.”
It took my scattered wits a moment to understand the words, and they only made me more confused. “I thought I heard Hadley call you Rev last night.”
“My road name.”
Since he didn’t explain beyond that, I introduced myself. “I’m Delaney Crosswell.”
He shifted slightly, keeping me tucked against his side as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Tell me what happened, Delaney.”
I took a shaky breath and gave him the short version, keeping my voice as even as I could manage. I explained working late in the restoration lab, the attack as I was leaving the building, and waking up groggy in what felt like the basement of an old church. I described how I’d been carefully posed like a mourning portrait, the herbs under my hands, and the other woman lying nearby in the same arrangement. The one who I’d come to realize was most definitely dead already.
When I mentioned the Victorian postmortem painting that looked eerily like both of us, his entire body went very still. The gleam in his eyes turned into something more predatory as his jaw tightened.
I continued anyway, telling him about Dr. Kinghorn’s clinical voice as he prepared whatever came next. How detached he sounded. And the way he talked about preservation and keeping things beautiful before the world could ruin them.
Soren barely seemed to even breathe while I spoke. He reminded me of a panther waiting patiently for its prey. Quiet, patient, and utterly lethal. After everything I’d just survived, it should have frightened me.
But his brand of danger felt protective. Like a blade turned outward instead of being aimed at me. Instead of wanting to pull away, I felt strangely anchored by it.
When I finished, he processed everything with unnerving focus. Then the questions started. Each carried an undercurrent of deadly intent. This seemed more like a man gathering information for a hunt than casual curiosity.
Eventually, Soren’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. Still keeping me tucked against him, he reached over to pick it up and glanced at the screen. His expression didn’t change, but I felt the subtle shift in his body as he read the message.
He set the phone down and looked at me again. “I need to step out for a bit. You gonna be okay if I leave you alone?”
I hesitated because I really wanted to ask him to stay right here with his arm around me. But that didn’t seem fair, and I’d have to eventually leave the safety of his embrace. “Yes. I’ll be fine.”
He studied me like he was reading every flicker of uncertainty I tried to hide. Then he dipped his chin. “Rest while I’m gone. This is club business, so I can’t ignore it, no matter how much I want to right now. But you’re safe here. No one gets through these gates unless we want them to. I’ll be back soon.”
He eased away from me slowly, the loss of his body heat more noticeable than I expected. I watched as he stood and pulled on his leather vest, which proclaimed him a member of the Redline Kings MC, a club well-known in the area where I grew up.
After shoving his boots on his feet, he paused at the door and glanced back at me one more time. “You’re safe, Delaney.”
Then he was gone, the door clicking softly shut behind him. I pulled the blanket higher around me, trying to hold on to the warmth he’d left behind, but it was already fading. My heart gave an unsteady thump as the weight of everything settled over me again.