Lynn's POV
We run.
Hand in hand through the dark, branches close overhead. Logan pulls me forward through the trees without hesitating once, and I follow without questions.
He slows. We step through the last of the trees together.
The meadow opens wide and silver under a full moon that hangs so low it looks like you could press your palm flat against it. I stop moving and just breathe — one full breath, then another, the kind that actually reaches the bottom of my lungs. For the first time since I walked into that banquet hall, I can feel my hands again.
Logan turns to face me.
I close the distance. His forehead comes down against mine and his arms come around me and I wrap mine around him and hold on — tight, both hands fisted in his jacket, pressing my face against his shoulder. He
