Before I can respond, there’s a rap at the window—Dima’s silhouette, checking in. Is it just me, or is the corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk? Mak’s posture shifts instantly, slipping back into the commander, the predator, the man the forest itself fears.
“I have men on the perimeter,” he says. “They’ll stay all night.” He moves toward the door, pausing long enough to look over his shoulder.
The Bear again. But his voice softens just barely.
“Try to sleep.”
Then he’s gone into the dark.
And the night, somehow, feels safer.
Chapter 24
Makari
Lauren stands in front of my desk with her arms folded, gear zipped halfway, expression sharp enough to cut through steel. She looks like she’s preparing to block the office door with her entire body if necessary.
“This is a terrible idea,” she says.
Behind her, Jesse’s leaning against the map table, pretending he isn’t listening, but the slight twitch in his jaw gives him away.
“It’s not a terrible idea,” I say, checking the ammo on my belt and snapping the clasp shut. “It’s an efficient one.”
“Efficient,” Lauren repeats. “You’re dragging your operations manager into the mountains after someone trespassed, established an armed camp, and killed two of your men last week.”
My temper spikes just hearing it out loud. The image flashes in my mind—blood on moss, a man gasping in my arms, his fingers trying to curl around mine before they went slack.
The memory flares hot, choking, but I push it down.
“She’ll be with me,” I say. “Safer than in that house right now.”
Lauren’s eyebrows shoot up. “If you’re so concerned, why not leave her with security on the estate?”
Because the estate feels vulnerable too. Because every corner I turn lately, something inside me expects to find another body, another threat. Because Roxy called me last night with fear in her voice—real fear, and when I heard it, something inside me detonated.
“Lauren,” I say, picking up my jacket, “I don’t have time.”
“You’re making decisions like a man who didn’t sleep.”
She has no idea how little sleep I had. Or what kind of sleep.
“Roxanne,” I call.
She appears in the doorway, wearing hiking boots she clearly borrowed from the estate supply room and a dark jacket that looks two sizes too big. Her hair is tied back, eyes bright with an irritation she’s already trying to hide.
I toss her a packed day bag. She catches it, but barely. “What?—”
“We’re leaving,” I say.
“Makari—”
But I’m already walking past her, down the hall and out the back entrance toward the ATV shed. Gravel crunches under my boots as I stalk across the yard, the cold morning air cutting through the fog of my thoughts. I’m halfway to the vehicles when she catches up.
“You didn’t even tell me where we’re going,” she says, slightly breathless.
“North perimeter. They found something.”
“What kind of something?”
