Misted (Team Zero #5) by Rina Kent

I stare at her soft face. That’s the most talking I’ve done since I met her more than eight years ago. But I’ve been planning this for months on end, making sure there’s no loophole.

Mist gathers my hand in hers and brushes her lips against my knuckles. “I’m ready to take that risk, too. I want to be out of here with you.”

I release a breath, feeling accomplished that our freedom is around the corner.

“You’ll still take me to France?” She grins, and her nose does that adorable scrunching.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want, Hellion.”

“Ghost and Shadow can come, too, right?”

I nod. “But let’s not tell them our plan until we know for sure that it’ll work.”

“And Ink.”

I growl deep in my throat. I don’t like the time she spends with him. I hate that she talks to him in the first place when she should be spending all her time with me.

I’m still contemplating how to kill him. He has to finish my tattoo first.

Mist nudges my side. “Come on. He’s a friend.”

I grumble an affirmative sound. It’ll be easier to kill him outside The Pit. Better yet, he might die of accidental withdrawal and I won’t have to dirty my hands.

Mist squeals and crawls into my lap, arms wrapping around my neck. At the feel of her soft curves and round breasts, I harden in an instant. Fuck. I’ve been having blue balls for years because of her, but I’ve been doing my best not to push her. The Pit and all Omega’s madness aside, we’re still young.

We fool around, touching and making out until we’re out of breath, but I always stopped it before it got too far.

This time, I don’t think I can even kiss her without my dick demanding entrance inside her.

I try to push her off me, but instead of sulking and not speaking to me for a day, Mist tightens her hold around my neck as she stares up at me with those bright hazel eyes. “I love you, Hawk.”

I smile a little. “Do you even know what that word means?”

She lifts a shoulder. “It means that I would die for you.”

I grab her chin and shake my head. “Don’t you ever repeat that. You’ll never put yourself in fucking danger for me. If anyone will die, it’ll be me.”

I was going to die that day she was shoved into The Pit. Since then, I’ve been living for her.

Only her.

“You won’t die.” She throws me a scowl.

“You won’t put yourself in danger. Is that understood?” I bite out.

“I promise if you promise not to put yourself in danger.” She leans in and seals her lips to mine. What starts as a slow peck transforms into a passionate swirl of my tongue against hers. I pull away because I’m dangerously tempted to rip her clothes off.

“Why are you always pushing me away?” She crosses her arms and sulks.

“You’re not ready.”

“I am.” She curls the hem of my T-shirt in her fist. “I’ve always been ready for you.”

“Hellion…”

“I want you.” She runs her lips on my scruff, staring up at me with vulnerable eyes. “Do you not want me?”

I push my erection into her, so she’d know the effect she has on me. “Can’t you see how much I need you, Hellion?”

She opens her mouth to say something, but I’m already devouring her mouth. Tongue against tongue, skin against skin, and heart against heart.

I do my best to take it slow, to kiss every inch of her body, over every scar and every blemish. I want to engrave myself under her skin and never leave again.

Still kissing her senseless, I make love to her, whispering how beautiful she is. How much I can’t stop thinking about her or looking at her. That if she ever leaves me, I’ll turn the earth upside down until I find her.



Present,

I throw away the cigarette, not bothering to finish it.

The promise I made to her all those years ago still lurks inside me like an actual being. This is the perfect opportunity to act on it.

I stalk back to the house with determination buzzing in my veins.

I freeze at the entrance.

Of course, I didn’t expect to find Mist here. I thought she would be in the room, showering or something. What I see on the table twists my stomach.

Blood. Lots of fucking blood soaks the table and the drapes red.

Fucking hell. What has she done?

As I approach the table, my heart beats the loudest since I’ve come out of The Pit.

My fear turns into pure fucking anger. On the table lies a tracker. The same tracker I planted inside her arm on our way to France. She cut it out of her skin like a fucking crazed animal.

She used her blood to write on the table.

‘You will never have me.’

We’ll fucking see about that.





17





Mist





During my most chaotic times, you’re the only thing that makes sense.



The village I’d seen from the window is too damn far.

As if that isn’t enough, I have to hike through a forest to reach it.

My Louboutin high heels aren’t made for a rocky path. My arm’s injury is throbbing, and I’m clutching my other arm from where I removed the tracker. It took me a few minutes to find it, thinking he placed in my wrist. He’s smart enough to plant it in the underside of my arm. I almost carved my flesh out to get rid of it.