“Come with me,” I murmur, my voice low, husky. She doesn’t hesitate. She just lets me guide her, one breathless step at a time, until the bed swallows us.
Her head finds my chest, her hair falling in waves against my skin. I wrap my arms around her, and for a few stolen moments, the chaos of everything else—the world outside, the expectations, the fame—melts away. All that exists is the steady drum of her heartbeat under my hand and the quiet hum of the peace between us.
Before I can repay the favour, and show my wife a glimpse of heaven, the intruder alarm shatters the calm. I tense, muscles coiling instinctively, my arms tightening around her.
“It’s okay,” I murmur, though my voice carries the edge of warning. “Let’s go.”
Her body stiffens against me the second the alarm blares, and I can feel the tremor running through her. Her eyes snapwide, pupils blown, and my chest tightens at the raw panic I see reflected there.
“They’re here,” she whispers, voice tight, shaking. “They found me…”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. My heart hammers, not with fear, but with protective fury.
“It’s probably fuck face from the club with his bandmates or roadies. They’ll be scared off now the alarm is set off.” But she’s not listening, she looks lost, trapped. “Sera,” I murmur, pressing a hand to her cheek, tilting her face toward mine. “Hey…look at me. It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m right here. Nobody’s touching you, not now, not ever.”
She jerks away for a fraction, panic still etched into every line of her body, before I tighten my arms around her, holding her close.
“Dove, breathe with me. In…out…slow. You’re safe. I promise. We’re together.”
Her lips quiver, and for a moment I think she might break, might bolt, might collapse into terror—but then she leans into my chest, tiny and trembling. I brush her hair back from her face, brushing soft kisses against her temple and whispering over and over, “I’m not letting anyone hurt you. I’ve got you.”
I hold her for a heartbeat longer, feeling the tremor in her body slow just enough for me to breathe. “I’ll take you to Logan and Mac,” I murmur against her hair, voice low, firm. Before we head out, I grab the fluffy dressing gown hanging on the hook, wrapping her in it. We hurry into the living room where everyone’s already gathering—Sam awake but confused, Logan shuffling around with a bleary-eyed Mac in his arms,and Chace… fully dressed and looking like he’s been waiting for trouble all night.
“What’s going on, Baker?” Sam asks, rubbing his face.
Before I can answer, Logan mutters, “My angel does not like being woken.”
Mac proves his point immediately. “Fucking kill whoever it is,” she snaps.
Logan gestures at her. “See?”
I shake my head. “Guys, stay with Sera while I go check.”
“Nope. I’m going with you,” Chace says, already moving like the decision was his to make.
“Fine. But Sam, Logan—”
“We’ll wait,” Sam says. “Mac can protect us.” He jokes.
Mac glares.
I turn back, my gaze catching Sera—my Dove—small in that oversized gown, eyes wide but steady.
“Alright, whatever. Come on, Chace. Sera… baby…I’ll be right back. Nobody’s getting to you.”
Her hands clutch at my chest, eyes wide, but there’s a flicker of trust in them—just enough to make me believe she’ll wait. I press a kiss to her temple, then shift carefully, sliding off the couch.
Her gaze follows me, searching, panicked.
“Be careful.”
“We will be.”
We step into the hallway, muscles coiled, senses straining. The alarm pulses through the house, the red warning light slicing across the walls. We move silently, shadow to shadow, checking every corner, every doorway. My fingers brush over the sleeklines of the furniture, every sound magnified—the fridge humming, the faint tick of a clock—but nothing moves. Nothing breathing but us. Chace however is moving with purpose. I probably look fucking stupid, almost rolling from cover to cover. Heart in my mouth. The door opens, and I almost slip as I recognize the security members, they immediately switch on a set of screens in my office, checking feeds.
“What happened, who is it?” I ask. One of the guards look over to me, before cycling through my on-site cameras. “Is it the guy with his friends from the club?”
“I have no real information for you at this time, sir, just that they’re heading toward the north end of the gardens. ”
