Ryland fought off Oliver in an effort to prevent him from killing Jeff. Oliver had torn at Jeff’s wound, trying to rip it open further, laughing gleefully, yelling he would tear out Jeff’s heart and eat it. He sounded maniacal. Oliver was abnormally strong, nearly crushing Ryland in spite of Ryland’s enhancements. It was only Jonas’s powerful snapping front kick delivered to Oliver’s thigh, giving him a dead leg, that forced him to turn his attention to Jonas.
He dropped Ryland and turned with a cruel, distorted grin on his face. “Jonas. They really think they can stop us. We can kill them all. Let’s take them together.”
“Oliver, we’re sworn to protect these men. They’re our friends. Our teammates. We’re surrounded by the enemy. Right now, we need to concentrate on killing them, not fighting among ourselves.” Jonas did his best to circle around Oliver to put his body between his team and his best friend.
“Weaklings, look at them. No one can take us.” Oliver shouted it and then rushed out into the open, exposing himself to the snipers above them on the rocks. Multiple shots were fired. He leapt into the air, giving the enemy the finger and laughing with delight. No bullet touched him. He ripped his shirt from his body, threw it down and declared himself invincible.
He walked slowly back to stand behind the slim wall of rocks and glared at Jonas. “You’re either with me or against me. I’m going to kill them all. Everyone. Either they’re worthy of living or not. Stand with me, brother.”
“You know I can’t do that, Oliver.”
“Then you’re going to die. Right here. Right now.”
Camellia winced at the sight of Oliver’s snarling, twisted face, a mask now, so distorted, his mouth foaming and bubbling until long strings of saliva hung down on either side of his jaw. The fight was vicious and brutal, a terrible savage brawl more animal than human, two lethal predators coming together in a fight to the death. She had never seen anything like it, and she never wanted to again. Jonas knew he shouldn’t share the images with her, his intimate memories of that brutal killing, but he wanted her to understand his fears for their future.
Jonas buried his face in her neck. “Do you see what I’m afraid of for you? For any children we might have together, Camellia? I never want to turn on the ones I love the most. First it was Oliver and then his brothers. Whatever concoction Whitney put into them, he put into me.” He tightened his arms around her, holding her to him. The last thing he wanted to do was give her up, but what else could he do if he was going to protect her?
“Jonas, look at me.”
Her voice. That soft, gentle tone that wrapped him up in silk and peace. In all the good the world had to give. That was Camellia. Whitney had failed to twist her into something dark or terrible. She was Jonas’s personal miracle. He lifted his head and looked down at her, into those eyes that held so many secrets.
His breath caught in his throat at what he saw there. His lungs burned. His heart hurt, thundering in his chest. Camellia’s long lashes framed her blue eyes, windows to the soul some said. And if that was the truth, he was looking at love. The real damn thing. Raw. Honest. A gift beyond any price. After what she’d just witnessed, it made no sense, and that meant all the more.
Both of her hands framed his face, her touch delicate, like the wings of a butterfly. So gentle, but he felt them like a brand.
“I see you, Jonas. All of you. Into you. The heart and soul of you. Who and what you are. The good and bad. Everything. You can’t hide anything from me, not with Middlemist Red connecting the two of us. I can’t hide anything from you. So hear me when I say it would be impossible for you to turn into a cold-blooded murderer or tip over into insanity. You are always in control. Always. I have watched you closely. You strategize. You use your brain. You don’t kill mindlessly or easily. You regret every life you have to take. You think you don’t have compassion, but it’s that wellspring of compassion in you that makes you hurt all the time. At first, in your memories of Oliver, all I could see was the battle because, yes, it seemed brutal and vicious, but then I realized you were doing your best to subdue him, not kill him. You only defended yourself, blocking his blows and trying to land those that wouldn’t actually damage him too severely.”
“Camellia . . .” He wanted to protest, but she was right. He had done that, but it was Oliver. He’d done everything he could to save him.
Oliver had known what he was doing. In the end, Oliver had given him no choice, at one point coming in close, knife in hand, gripping Jonas to him and whispering that Jonas had to kill him. No one else could do it and it had to be done. It was the only way to save him. He’d said, “If you love me, Jonas, do it. Kill me now before I kill someone I love.” That had nearly broken him.
Camellia’s thumb brushed along his wet cheek, that sliding caress that turned his heart upside down. “I’m in love with you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m not in the least afraid. I just have to know you’re willing to risk everything to be with me because you love me that much.”
Jonas stared down into her upturned face. He couldn’t imagine loving her more. The emotion was overwhelming. Risking his life was one thing. Risking hers was another altogether.
“Jonas, you have to trust someone.”
“I trusted Oliver and he trusted me. I let him down, Camellia. I could do the same thing to you.” His father hadn’t saved his mother, and he hadn’t been able to save his father or Oliver.
“But you didn’t let him down,” Camellia pointed out. “You saved Oliver. You found the strength to do what needed to be done. As for your father, he made his choice, and that was to go with your mother. Jonas, you have to make a choice. You have to decide whether we’re worth the risk. I believe in us. Either you do or you don’t. But you have to be all in. All the way.”
There it was. His woman. Making her demands. Camellia was no shrinking violet. She was magnificent. And she was his. The connection between them was as real as the emotions he had for her. Nothing was ever black and white, the way he wanted the world to be. Issues always came in various shades, depending on the angle viewed. He wanted to spend the rest of his life looking at the world through the angles Camellia did.
He caught her chin and lifted it to him. “I’m choosing you. I love you, Camellia. You already know that. If you’re brave enough to take me on, then I’ll fight for us for the rest of our lives.”
He brought his mouth to hers and instantly lit a fire. The embers had to have been smoldering all along, because the moment her lips parted, it was as though he’d touched a match to a stick of dynamite. They both went up in flames.
He caught at the hem of her shirt. “Arms up, Camellia. This has to go.”
She obeyed him, arms in the air, her eyes on his. He dragged her tee over her head and tossed it onto the nearest chair. He slipped his arms around her to find the fastening of her bra.