FOUR WEEKS, SIX DAYS INTO THE CONTRACT - THURSDAY, 5:15 AM
They had thirty-two minutes.
Thirty-two minutes before the brothers had to walk out that door and leave Eve for three days. Thirty-two minutes to reinforce a bond that had to survive separation. Thirty-two minutes to say everything that needed to be said and do everything that needed to be done.
Thirty-two minutes that might be all they had left.
Dr. Thorne had been diplomatic about it, taking Mrs. Blackwood to finish setting up the medical station in the adjoining room, giving them privacy. But Eve could feel the clock ticking, could feel each second slipping away like sand through her fingers.
"No talking," Eve said, her voice surprisingly steady. "We don't have time for words. We have time for this."
She pulled Damian to her, her hands already working at his tactical gear. He'd dressed for war....dark clothing, weapons strapped to his body, every inch the alpha warrior about to face fifty hostile wolves.
