Someone had crossed a line. Now they had my full attention.
I climbed back onto the excavator with a grim sense of inevitability settling in my gut. It didn’t take long to find the problem. The hydraulic coupling near the base of the arm had been loosened just enough to bypass the safety lock. Whoever had done it knew exactly how much give was enough to cause movement without making it immediately obvious.
I dropped back to the ground and moved toward the storage container at the edge of the site. The padlock hung crooked, snapped clean through. Inside, nothing obvious was missing, but that didn’t matter.
I crouched, pressing my fingers into the mud near the container. The rain had churned the ground into a mess of half-formed impressions.
I drew in a deep breath anyway, my cougar pushing forward, furious and frustrated. Nothing. The storm had scrubbed the scent clean. Whoever had been here last night had walked away untrackable.
Rage burned hot in my chest.
They’d done this while Elodie slept less than a hundred yards away in her car. She’d been alone and unprotected. Completely unaware of how close danger had come.
I pulled out my phone and made the call.
“Do you have any theories on who could be behind this?” my father asked after I explained what I’d found.
“The other bidder. Who was it?”
There was a pause. “Holt & Crane. They were furious. Offered more money, but the landowner refused to sell to them. He wanted someone who’d treat the land with the respect it deserved.”
I stared out across the site, my gaze drifting instinctively back toward where Elodie stood near my truck.
“My guess is they want payback.” I raked my fingers through my hair. “And another opportunity to get the property once we’re forced out.”
“Too many accidents, and our permits will be pulled,” my dad agreed.
“I gotta shut them down,” I growled. “And make damn sure no one gets hurt.”
Especially Elodie, but I wasn’t ready to share that I’d found my mate yet. Not until she was ready to find out who she was to me.
Dad’s answering chuckle held no humor. “Holt & Crane is run by humans. They have no fucking clue what they’ve just unleashed.”
“They’ll find out soon.”
I ended the call and slipped my phone back into my pocket.
Mentally running through permits, timelines, and who I needed to call next, I kept my attention on logistics, but my focus kept drifting back to Elodie.
She remained near my truck, her stormy blue gaze tracking my movements. She was small in a way that didn’t read as fragile, her build slight and compact. But there were soft, subtle curves there. She would fit under my hands perfectly.
I’d already cataloged the way her head would tuck beneath my chin, how easily she’d disappear against my chest if I pulled her close. Everything about her felt right—like the missing piece I hadn’t known I’d been circling for years.
My cougar watched her with a possessive awareness that bordered on reverence. And my body instinctively knew how to place itself between her and the world.
I didn’t like how she held herself with a guarded stillness, her shoulders squared and chin lifted just enough to signal she wouldn’t break. Although I appreciated her resilience, I worried about what had forced her to learn it.
She didn’t belong anywhere dangerous. Especially not sleeping in her car on the edge of a site someone was actively trying to sabotage. Or anywhere other than a comfortable bed.
I was done letting the world push this woman down. She was mine, and I vowed to smooth her way from now on.
Elodie shifted her weight, and our eyes met, just briefly. Something warm flickered across her face before she looked away, her cheeks filling with heat.
My cougar settled, satisfied that she was aware of me—even if she didn’t understand why yet.
When I finally made my way back to her, she tucked a lock of her dark hair behind her ear and whispered, “I’m sorry for getting in the way earlier.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I said more sharply than I’d intended.
