The room is silent for a beat, rage a common thread across us all. Gage finally speaks. “Then we blow up their pipeline.”
Rush shakes his head. “Not yet. We build the case. Quiet. Methodical. If we hit too soon, they bury everything deeper.”
I force a nod, though every muscle in me screams to tear the whole operation apart with my bare hands. The need to strike and burn it down chews at my insides, but I bury it under a mask of control. Professionalism. Discipline. The chain that keeps the rage leashed, at least for now.
Later, in the hallway, Sadie waits. Arms crossed, hip cocked, eyes sparking. “You plan on standing guard outside my door all night again?”
“That depends.” I step closer, the air charged between us. “You plan on trying to sneak out?”
Her grin is pure challenge. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
The banter cuts too close to flirtation. My wolf presses hard, but I lock it down. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”
She tilts her head, studying me like she can see past the armor. “You sound almost worried.”
“Almost?” I murmur. “Try absolutely.”
Her lips part, but before she can fire back, Kari’s secure ping lands. Rush reads it off, voice grim. “Drone footage. East fence. Another laser trip mark wasn’t there last night.”
Cold floods through me, each heartbeat pounding like a warning drum. Someone slipped past our defenses again, close enough to touch, and they marked the fence as if daring us to notice. The violation crawls over my skin, raw and personal, a promise that whoever crossed that line will return.
I find her again later, restless as ever, barefoot on the porch with dawn painting her hair in firelight. She glances back at me, mischief playing at her lips despite the danger.
“Still lurking, Ranger?” she teases.
I step close, letting my shadow fall over hers. “Still testing me?”
She leans against the rail, unconcerned, deliberately brushing the edge of my patience. The spark is reckless, hot. I should walk away, but instead I match her stare until she moves, cheeks coloring. Her pulse beats fast, and I want to taste it, claim it. The air between us thickens, her defiance feeding my hunger until restraint feels like barbed wire. I want to pin her to the wall, take her mouth until she admits she needs me as badly as I need her. But I force the breath steady, rein myself in.
She brushes past, her shoulder grazing mine with intent, slow enough to make the touch linger. Heat streaks down my side, searing through restraint, and for a breath it feels like the whole porch tilts toward that single point of contact. Desire rakes through me, raw and insistent, leaving me unsteady and wanting more.
I step into the barn, strip down, and let the mist rise. Color, light, thunder swallow me whole until paws hit dirt. I run the fence, each stride hammering the ground, ears tuned for any trespass. The air carries secrets—furtive steps in the brush, the distant hum of machinery—but nothing breaches. Still, my wolf paces with restless fury. Protect. Guard. Keep her safe. Always.
When a coyote streaks across the grass, I nearly give chase, but discipline drags me back. The patrol is hers as much as mine; she’s inside, trusting me to hold the line.
Only when the horizon begins to brighten do I return to the barn and force myself back into human form, lungs burning, skin slick with sweat. I drag on my clothes and return inside.
The war room is empty, shadows draped thick across the maps and monitors like a warning. My boots strike the floorboards in steady beats, too loud in the silence. I tell myself to lock in, to drown the pulse she rouses in me, but discipline feels stretched to breaking, fragile as glass under pressure.
Whoever breached us hadn’t just tested the perimeter. They slipped inside the fence and stood there, watching her, watching me, leaving the certainty that they’ll return. The thought grinds in my chest like a blade, promising the next time won’t end without blood.
CHAPTER 15
SADIE
The laser trip discovery gnaws at me like teeth against bone. Someone stood inside the fence. Not just watching, but close enough to mark us. The thought rattles around my skull as I prowl the hallways. Panic flares, but I press it down, forcing my thoughts into order. Problem-solving has always been my anchor.
Cassidy meets me near the kitchen, eyes scanning the same places mine do. “Baseboards, vents, molding. If they slipped something in, it’ll be small. Fiber cameras, maybe.” Her tone is clipped, like she hates that she didn’t catch it sooner.
We sweep in tandem, shoulders brushing as we crouch low, check seams, shine our lights along lines most people ignore. The hum of the refrigerator fills the silence, punctuated by the soft click of her nail tapping against wood. I drag my fingers along the crown molding and pause. There. A glint. Not dust, not paint. A lens. My chest tightens, but my hand steadies.
I tilt my phone, snap a picture, and type without thinking:
Found your blind spot.
Cassidy glances at the screen, lips twitching. “Oh, he’s going to love that. You really do enjoy poking the bear.”
I shrug, a grin slipping free despite the tension. “Not a bear, a wolf, and it’s better than waiting for him to find out on his own. He’d lecture me twice as long.”
