Page 25 of The Riders’ Reign

I wince at that.

I look between them. “How the hell is that supposed to happen?”

Ace shoots our girl a grin. “Camile came up with a super smart plan.”

“Yeah?” I can’t help the pleasure in my voice.

She shrugs, bashful. “Hopefully it works. I’m sure someone else would have thought of it, if I didn’t.”

“She’s being modest,” Ace says. “Anyway, let me go speak to the others and give you some space.”

I want to ask her what her plan was, but there’s something I need to tell her, and if I don’t, I’m pretty sure I’m going to bust my stitches, no matter what the nurse says. Ace leaves us alone, and the atmosphere immediately changes. It softens, grows sweeter, and I know it’s because of her.

She foregoes the chair and sits on the edge of my bed instead, as close to me as possible. I can see in her eyes how frightened she was that she almost lost me, and how grateful she is now that we’re together.

“I got your note,” I tell her.

“You did?”

“You said you loved me.”

“Of course I love you, Jack. Are you crazy? How could you not know that by now?”

“I guess I did know it. I just didn’t believe it until now.”

She gives a small smile. “Well, believe it.”

“I almost died, and it ...”

It all hits me, and I take a choked breath, struggling.

Witnessing my battle, she leans in and wraps her arms around my head and shoulders carefully, shifting her body more fully onto the bed. She pulls me into her gently, and I press my face to her chest. I almost died. It punches me in a way it hasn’t before. I shake against her, giving in to my emotions. I can be vulnerable with her in a way I’ve never been with anyone before.

10

CAMILE

Even though he’s hurt and lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to wires, he’s still the big, tough man I’ve grown to love, but right now he’s struggling.

Careful of his injuries, I hold him to me, his face pressed to my chest, his head tucked under my chin. I bury my nose into his hair and inhale the familiar scent of him. My hands stroke the strong muscles of his back and shoulders.

His shaking subsides, and I sense there are things that still need to be said.

I kiss the top of his head then release him.

He sinks back into the bed.

“I told Ivani that she has to make peace with us being together,” he says, holding my gaze.

“You did?”

“I’m sorry that she slapped you.”

Discomfort worms through my insides. “I deserved it. I pulled her hair first.”

“Even so, I don’t want either of you fighting.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, meaning it. “I don’t want us to be fighting either.”