Page 111 of Gunnar

I can hear the logic clicking into place for them both.

Gunnar stops dead.

“I’ve got it.”

He turns to me. “Alexandria. Go pack your things.”

I blink. “You want to tell me what the plan is?”

“We’re not leaving you here.” His voice is flat, final. “Not for a second. And I’m not handing you over to them.”

He gestures sharply toward the hallway. “There’s a cabin. Deep in the forest. Small. Hard to find. You stay there. A few days, max. We deal with this, then I come back.”

He and Torin exchange a look—quick, loaded.

“I’ll leave you a phone. Battery pack.”

I understand: for if he doesn’t come back.

“No,” I say.

“I’m coming with you.”

Gunnar’s head snaps toward me. “No. It’s too dangerous.”

“I’m your mate,” I shoot back. “You don’t get to leave me behind.”

I don’t know if that’s a rule.

It feels like one.

And I already know what it feels like to be away from him. The wrongness of it. The sharp pull in my chest.

Gunnar stares at me, his expression tightening. “We could get killed.”

“What if we don’t go?” I say. “What if we just go someplace else. Start over?”

He shakes his head immediately. “That won’t hold. They’ll find us.”

His jaw sets.

“And Orson—” He cuts himself off, then finishes anyway. “They’ll break him if they have to.”

I swallow. “Then we don’t leave him.”

Torin pushes to his feet. “He’s gone too far this time. We should leave him to deal with his own shit.”

Gunnar exhales hard. “He’s done enough damage already.”

“Maybe,” I say. “But you’re still going after him.”

He doesn’t argue with that.

Because he can’t.

“Which means I’m coming,” I add.

Torin lets out a quiet breath. “This isn’t something you walk away from halfway through,” he says. “If we go, we go all in.”