He starts moving, guiding us both toward where his truck is idling in the middle of the street. Hunter climbs in the back seat, pulling me into his lap, surrounding me with his presence. Dylan gets in the driver's seat and immediately starts the truck, heading back toward what I assume is the direction of home.
"Sis," Dylan says, catching my eyes in the rearview mirror. "You're going to be okay, I promise you that. Vincent isn't going to touch you. Your Alphas will keep you safe during your heat, and Maddox and I will make sure he can't get anywhere near your pack. Okay?"
I nod, burying my face in Hunter's neck, breathing in his scent. The connection between us pulses with reassurance, with protection, with safety. I can feel Silas and Wyatt too through the scent match, their concern bleeding through even at a distance.
"Okay," I whisper. "Okay."
Dylan
I've never had to take care of Amelia like this before. Sure, I raised her after our parents died, dealt with teenage drama and homework struggles and teaching her how to drive. But this is different. This is my baby sister on the verge of her heat, terrified because her abusive ex just chased her through town, needing her Alphas in a way that's primal and desperate. And I'm the one who has to make sure everything else gets handled so they can focus on keeping her safe.
Minutes. That's how long it took between signing the paperwork and Vincent showing up.Minutesbetween signing the papers and him cornering Amelia in that pharmacy. The officer's words echo in my head: "A restraining order is just paper." He was right. It's useless against someone like Vincent who knows the system, knows how to work around it, knows exactly how far he can push before facing real consequences.
The drive back to the Kane house is tense and silent, my hands tight on the steering wheel, checking the rearview mirror every few seconds for any sign of Vincent's truck following us. Amelia is curled in Hunter's lap in the back seat, her face buried in his neck, her whole body trembling. Even through the rearview mirror I can how flush her cheeks have gotten and smell how strong her scent has gotten, that rose fragrance amplified to an almost overwhelming degree. Hunter has both arms wrapped around her, one hand stroking through her hair, murmuring things I can't quite hear but sound soothing. His expression is a mixture of fierce protectiveness and barely controlled rage.
I never thought I'd see the day that Hunter Kane softened. The man's been a wall of grief and stoicism for the past year, keeping everyone at arm's length, maintaining iron control over every emotion. But looking at him now, holding my sister like she's the most precious thing in the world, something fundamental has shifted. He's let her in, let himself care again, let himself be vulnerable.
And Amelia, god, watching her crawl back out of her shell over these past weeks has been nothing short of miraculous. The woman who showed up at my door in the middle of the night weeks ago barely spoke above a whisper, flinched at every sound, couldn't make eye contact for more than a few seconds. Now she laughs freely, plays with Riley and Isaac without hesitation, kisses her Alphas without that constant fear that affection will turn to violence.
The security at my house was upgraded the night she came running to my door, Maddox insisting we needed cameras and better locks and motion sensors that alert directly to my phone. It seemed excessive at the time, but now I'm grateful for his paranoia. The kids are there now with Maddox, safe behind those upgraded locks and cameras. Vincent won't get near them, won't get a chance to use them as leverage.
When I pull into the Kane driveway, Hunter is out of the truck before I've fully stopped, carrying Amelia in his arms. She keeps her face buried in his neck, hiding from the world, from reality. Silas and Wyatt are waiting at the door, must have been watching for us. The tension in their shoulders, the way their eyes immediately lock onto Amelia—they've been going out of their minds with worry.
Hunter doesn't pause at the door, just carries her straight inside and up the stairs. I follow them in, catching Silas's arm before he can head upstairs after them.
"How bad is it?" Wyatt asks quietly, his voice tight. "With Vincent. How bad?"
I glance up the stairs where Hunter disappeared with Amelia, then meet their eyes. "Bad enough. He's definitely not trying to hide his intentions. The ink wasn’t even dry on the restraining and he violated it."
Silas's jaw clenches, something dangerous flickering in his dark eyes. “Seriously?”
"Yeah, but I’m not even sure he’d care even if he knew the restraining order existed," I confirm. "I need to call the officer from this morning and file a report. Maybe this time they'll actually arrest him instead of just putting out alerts that he'll dodge anyway."
"We'll handle it," Wyatt says, his voice cold and determined. "He's not getting near her."
"I know you will. But I think this is a stay-inside kind of week. Don't open the door for anyone you don't know. Keep the security system armed. And call me if anything happens, anything at all. The police are supposed to have units watching the house, but I don't trust that they'll be enough if Vincent really decides to make a move."
"Understood," Silas says. "The kids?"
"With Maddox. I picked them up this morning, remember? They'll stay with us for however long you need. Riley was asking about Amelia, but I told her everything was fine, that you guys just needed to take care of some adult stuff."
Wyatt nods, relief flickering across his face. "Thank you. For everything. For taking the kids, for—"
"She's my sister and your kids," I interrupt. "You don't need to thank me for protecting her. That's what family does."
A crash sounds from upstairs, followed by Hunter's soothing voice. All three of us tense, but then we hear Amelia's voice, muffled but coherent, and the tension eases slightly.
"Go," I tell them. "She needs all of you. I'll handle everything else—the police report, checking in with the kids, making sure Vincent doesn't get anywhere near any of you. You just focus on getting her through this."
They head for the stairs without another word, taking them two at a time. I watch them go, these three Alphas who've somehow become part of my sister's life in such a short time. Part of me still struggles with how fast this happened, how quickly she bonded with them. But seeing the way they dropped everything to protect her, the way they coordinate without speaking, the way they're all equally invested in her safety and wellbeing—I know she's in good hands.
I pull out my phone as I head back to my truck, already dialing the police station. The officer answers on the third ring.
"Officer Martinez? This is Dylan Sterling. We were in your office this afternoon filing a restraining order for my sister, Amelia Sterling." I pause, letting my anger bleed into my voice. "Well, Vincent approached her in a pharmacy not three minutes after we left your station. Chased her through a residential neighborhood. She's terrified and her heat just started, which means she's more vulnerable than ever, and that piece of paper you promised would protect her did absolutely nothing."
Granted, it was impossible for that piece of paper to protect her when Vincent didn’t even know he had a restraining order against him. The fact that no one even knew he was in the area was just the cherry on top.
There's a pause on the other end, then Martinez's voice comes through the earpiece. "I'll send units to pick him up immediately. Where is your sister now?"
