Jonus arrived, took one look at my face and the photos and said, “We need to find her. Now.”
He tracked her phone to the bus station. We ran three red lights. I burst through those bus station doors like an orc possessed. Scanned the crowd, desperate, terrified I was too late. And there she was, three steps from boarding a bus to Sacramento. Go-bag over her shoulder, coat soaked from rain, looking small and scared and determined. I called her name. She turned and stood there, staring at me with those dark eyes fullof fear and exhaustion and something that might’ve been relief. I walked straight to her.
Humans moved out of my way automatically. Good. I probably looked feral. I stopped three feet away, close enough to touch but giving her space.
Her voice was so quiet. “How did you find me?” I told her everything and did my best to make sure she was coming with me and not get on that damn bus. She tried to argue and push me away, told me they’d kill everyone she cared about and I just held out my hand. “Come with me. Tell me everything. And we’ll figure it out together.” She took my hand.
Relief had flooded through me so fast I nearly staggered. Her fingers in mine, warm and small and trusting. The bus pulled away without her and I didn’t give her a chance to reconsider, just led her out into the rain, to where Jonus waited with the SUV. She’d looked at me then like she couldn’t quite believe I was real. Like no one had ever protected her before.
I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving that I’m not going anywhere.
The private airfield emerges from the rain. It’s a small facility with minimal security and perfect for what we need. The plane waits on the tarmac, sleek and expensive. Irontree family resources.
I open Anna’s door carefully. She stirs as I lift her, makes a small sound but doesn’t wake she just settles against my chest, head tucked under my chin. Perfect fit. I trudge through the slushy rain, barely feeling it. She’s warm in my arms, soft, and trusting. My mate, finally where she belongs.
Jonus follows with her go-bag. At the plane steps, he stops and hands over her possessions. “Take care of her,” he grins, punches my shoulder, and walks back to the SUV.
Inside the plane, it’s warm and quiet. Luxury seating, with bed-like chairs in the back cabin. I settle Anna onto one, removeher damp coat and tuck blankets around her. She shifts slightly, murmurs something that sounds like “Keric” but doesn’t wake.
The pilot appears, an older human male who’s flown for us before. Asks no questions, just confirms our flight plan. “Four hours to Maine, sir.”
I nod, take the seat across from Anna. Can’t stop watching her. The rise and fall of her breathing. The way her hand curls near her face. The vulnerability of her sleeping like this, trusting me to keep her safe.
The engines start, that low thrumming vibration. Anna shifts but doesn’t wake. Exhausted from fear and stress and three years of running on her own. Not anymore. She’s done running.
The plane taxis and picks up speed. My hands grip the armrests, not from fear of flying but from everything else. The weight of responsibility. The threat chasing her. The bond between us she doesn’t fully understand yet.
We lift off, nose tilting up, breaking through clouds. Anna sleeps through it all.
I watch dawn break over the horizon through the window. Pink and gold spills across the sky. It’s a new day and a new beginning for the both of us. She’s trusted me enough to come and fell asleep feeling safe enough to let go. But morning will come and she’ll wake up in Maine, reality will hit, and then what? What if she regrets this decision? She could still decide the mate bond isn’t what she wants, that I’m not what she wants.
The thought is unbearable, but I’ll give her that choice. Give her space, control, time. Everything I can offer except the option of being unsafe. That’s non-negotiable. Every orc instinct screams to claim her, mark her, make her officially mine. The drive to protect is so intense it’s physically painful to resist. But I will resist. For her. She won’t have a choice about living with me—that’s non-negotiable for her safety. Commune custom dictates that unmated females stay under a male’s protection,and she’s mine to protect whether she’s ready to accept that or not. But what happens in that cabin? That’s hers to decide. I can’t give her the option of being unsafe, but I can give her control over her body, her heart, her future. She needs to come to me freely, not be pushed by biology or circumstance or my desperation.
Anna shifts in her sleep and her delicate hand reaches out like she’s searching for something.
I move to her side, take her hand in mine.
She settles immediately, sighs, relaxes back into sleep.
I settle back into my seat, still holding her hand across the aisle. Whatever happens when she wakes up, I’ll be ready. She’s going to have questions. She’s going to protest living with me, sharing my space. But her safety isn’t negotiable. Everything else? I’ll give her all the time she needs.
Because losing her isn’t an option.
Chapter Three
Anna
Iwake up disoriented, my neck stiff from sleeping at a weird angle.
Where am I?
The hum of engines vibrates in my ears. I blink at soft lighting and notice I’m in a comfy leather seat. And then it all floods back—the package on my doorstep, the photos, the bus station. Keric’s face when he called my name.
You’re my mate.
Did he really say that? Or did I dream it?
I blink and look around, slowly sitting up. I’m on a plane and it’s the smaller, luxurious, type of private plane I’ve only seen in movies. I have a vague recollection of being carried from an SUV onto this plane by a large green orc.
