Chapter 267

Twenty-three minutes into their trek, Evelyn Sinclair's legs had turned to lead. Blisters wept beneath her ruined shoes. The monsoon chose that moment to cease, as if nature itself was mocking her suffering.

Beyond the tree line, the Pacifica Ocean roared. Salt-laced wind whipped at her face as waves pummeled the shoreline with primal fury.

The wet sand sucked at her feet like quicksand. Ahead, Adrian Blackwood moved with the effortless grace of someone who'd spent years conquering hostile terrain.

At the leeward side of a basalt outcrop, Adrian braced against a boulder twice his mass and shoved. Stone grated against stone, revealing a crevice.

"You coming?" He vanished into the darkness.

Evelyn gaped at the hidden cavern—barely large enough for two. Seawater trickled through fissures but couldn't penetrate the inner chamber. Adrian squeezed through a narrow passage, his voice echoing back. "Mind your head."

The chamber beyond stole Evelyn's breath. Battery-powered lanterns cast golden light over neatly stacked firewood. The air smelled of pine resin and dry earth—a paradise compared to the jungle's rot.

Her gaze snagged on Adrian retrieving a La Sportiva backpack from a ledge. Matching his boots. Efficient. He shrugged into a Scarpa windbreaker, then froze mid-motion.

Evelyn realized she'd been staring. Not with attraction, but the hypervigilance of someone who'd lost too much already.

Adrian's lips quirked. "See something you like, Sinclair?"

Heat flooded her cheeks as she spun away. "Aren't you thirsty? There's a leaf pouch by your knee. Collect seawater."

"Distillation. Smart." She seized the excuse to escape.

The makeshift container was laughably primitive. Evelyn selected the clearest runoff from a tidal pool. When she returned, Adrian had transformed.

Gone was the wild-haired castaway. Before her sat a man with military-short hair and razor-sharp cheekbones. His storm-gray eyes reflected the lantern light like polished hematite.

But it was the synthetic black hair piled beside him that made Evelyn blink. "You were wearing a wig?"

Adrian shrugged. "When in Rome."

"Who packs a disguise for a deserted island?"

The grin he flashed was all reckless charm. "Anthropology vlogger. I document uncontacted tribes." He produced a micro-camera no larger than a thumbnail. "This little guy's been recording everything."

Hope flared in Evelyn's chest. "You have a way off this rock?"

Adrian's smile faltered. "Not exactly."

"What about your extraction plan?"

"Helicopter drop-off. My pilot friend's currently freezing his ass off in Antarctica." He rubbed his neck. "Assuming he's still alive."