The words landed heavily.
Cole exhaled slowly. “Then understand this,” he said. “Onceyou’re part of how we respond, you’re part of what we protect.” Something shifted then — subtle but unmistakable.
Not possession.
Not romance.
Alignment.
Later, as the storm eased and the house returned to its steady rhythm, she lay awake listening to the rain fade into silence.
She hadn’t crossed a line tonight.
She’d stepped over it willingly.
And on the other side wasn’t danger.
It was connection.
**CHAPTER NINE.
She noticed it the next morning.
Not immediately. Not with panic. Just a small inconsistency that refused to sit right once it had lodged in her mind.
The gate.
She paused halfway across the yard, eyes narrowing slightly as she took it in. The latch was closed, just as it should be — but the dust beneath it had been disturbed. Fresh tyre marks, faint but unmistakable, curving away from the post and back towards the road. She hadn’t left.
None of them had.
She didn’t touch anything.
Instead, she went straight to the house.
Cole was at the table with the tablet again, Adrian nearby, Tanner pouring coffee. All three looked up as she entered, the shift in their posture immediate and instinctive.
“There’s been someone at the gate,” she said.
No preamble. No apology.
Cole stood at once. “When?”
“Recently,” she replied. “After the storm.”
Adrian was already moving, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll check the perimeter.”
Tanner’s gaze stayed on her. “Did they come through?”
“No,” she said. “But they stopped. Long enough to consider it.” That was enough.
Cole turned back to her. “Is this connected to why you came here?” She didn’t look away. “Yes.”
Silence fell, sharp and focused.
Cole gestured towards the chair. “Sit.”
She did — not because she was told, but because she intended to stay for the conversation.
