The landing wasn't much better than takeoff, with the Blackhawk swaying violently before it was firmly on the ground, the skids hitting the snow with a heavy thud that rattled through my bones. Apprehension at seeing the pack and feeling the sting of their rejection fluttered through me like icy fingers down my spine. As the blades of the helicopter died down with a slowing whine, Darren helped free me from the crossed seatbelt while I pulled the headphones off, my ears still ringing from the noise.
Darren lowered his lips before I could stand, pressing them against mine softly while cupping my cheek with surprising tenderness. The kiss was brief but grounding, his warmth cutting through the chill seeping into the cabin.
"Welcome home, Brat," he said, helping me up while he crouched over
