“Any updates from Mason and Ryan?” I ask during a lull in conversation.
Forest’s expression turns serious. “Last communication puts them about twelve hours out. They had to take an alternate route after encountering resistance.”
My heart stutters. “Resistance? They’re okay?”
“Ghost and Brass?” Jackson scoffs. “Takes more than a few mercenaries to slow them down.”
The meal continues, but my thoughts remain fixed on Mason and Ryan, somewhere in the wilderness, making their way to us. I push food around my plate, no longer hungry despite the excellent cooking.
“You should rest,” Skye suggests gently, noticing my distraction. “Tomorrow will be here before you know it.”
I nod, grateful for the escape. “Thank you for dinner. It was lovely.”
Bear follows me back to the suite, his steady presence a comfort as I prepare for bed. Despite my exhaustion, sleep proves elusive. I lie awake in the unfamiliar room, listening to Bear’s soft snores from his position at the foot of the bed.
My mind replays everything—the storm, finding Mason, the night in his arms, the firefight, the extraction, the journey here. So much has happened in so little time that it feels impossible to process everything.
Somewhere beyond these walls, Mason is keeping his promise, fighting his way back to me. I cling to that thought as exhaustion finally claims me, dragging me into dreamless sleep.
Morning comes with soft light filtering through the windows and Bear’s cold nose pressing against my cheek. I blink awake to find him staring at me, tail thumping against the mattress.
“Morning to you too,” I murmur, reaching up to scratch his ears.
A knock at the door sends Bear bounding across the room, his entire posture alert but not alarmed. When I open it, Skye stands there with a tray of food.
“Breakfast,” she explains. “And news. Mason and Ryan made contact thirty minutes ago. They’ll be here within the hour.”
“They’re okay?” Relief floods through me, so intense it makesmy knees weak.
“Tired, dirty, and according to Mason, ‘severely caffeine-deprived,’ but otherwise unharmed.” She sets the tray on the coffee table. “Thought you might want to eat and get ready before they arrive.”
“Thanks.”
“And I’ll take Bear out, if that’s okay with you. Big guy needs to run and stretch those legs.”
“Sure.” I shower and dress with renewed energy, anticipation building with each passing minute.
After my shower, I head to the Great Room to wait.
I pace the length of the room, nerves buzzing under my skin like static. The fire crackles in the hearth, its warmth doing little to calm the restless energy twisting inside me.
Bear lies near the window, massive body stretched out, chin resting on his paws. Suddenly, he lifts his head.
Every muscle in his frame goes taut. His ears snap forward. He sniffs the air once—twice—and then he’s on his feet, tail swishing in tight, eager arcs.
“Bear?” I take a step toward him, but he’s already trotting to the door, nails clicking on the wood floor. Not tense. Not on guard.
Excited.
He lets out a short, happy bark, his tail now wagging hard enough to thump against the entryway wall.
And then I know. I feel it before it happens.
I’m already halfway to the front door by the time the handle turns.
It swings open to reveal Ryan first, dusty, scraped up, but upright. He’s already unlatching his gear as he steps inside, his rifle slung loose over one shoulder.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says with a tired grin. “Someone’s been waiting for you.”
