"I can pick it up tomorrow," I'd told her, already reaching for my boots, already calculating how long the walk into town would take. "It's not urgent."
"Nonsense." Marley's voice had been warm but firm through the receiver, the way it always was when she'd made up her mind about something, her tone brooking no argument. "You've been waiting for this fabric for a month. Besides, the boys are all busy with that fence repair on the south pasture. You could use the fresh air."
She wasn't wrong. The past few days had been tense, all of us on edge, waiting for Easton's next move. Reid had been in constant meetings with the other ranchers and the lawyers, hisjaw permanently tight, his cedar scent carrying notes of stress that made my Omega want to soothe him. Sawyer had taken to patrolling the property lines like a wolf guarding its territory, his pale eyes scanning the horizon, his body coiled with barely leashed violence. Even Kol's sunshine had dimmed, his usual jokes falling flat, his golden eyes shadowed with worry that he tried to hide behind his smile.
Fresh air sounded good. Normal sounded better.
"I'll be back before lunch," I'd promised Reid, standing on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his jaw, feeling the tension in his shoulders as his arms wrapped around me, his body curving around mine like he could shield me from the world. "It's just a quick walk into town. I've done it a hundred times."
"Take the truck." His voice had been low, his dark eyes searching my face with an intensity that made my chest ache, his cedar scent sharp with concern, his hands tightening on my waist like he didn't want to let go, his fingers pressing into my hips with barely restrained need. "Or wait until one of us can go with you."
"Reid." I'd softened my voice, cupping his face in my hands, feeling the stubble rough against my palms, his jaw tight beneath my fingers. "I'll be fine. It's broad daylight. The whole town knows me now. I'll stick to the main road, I promise."
He'd hesitated, that muscle in his jaw jumping the way it did when he was fighting with himself, his dark eyes searching mine for any sign of doubt, his chest rising and falling with carefully controlled breaths. But in the end, he'd nodded — a short, reluctant jerk of his head — and pressed a kiss to my forehead that lingered longer than usual, his lips warm and firm against my skin.
"Be careful." The words had come out rough, almost a growl, his dark eyes burning into mine with an intensity that mademy heart ache, his hands sliding up to cup my face, his thumbs stroking across my cheekbones. "Come straight back."
"I will." I'd smiled at him, trying to ease the worry from his face, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the tension there that never seemed to fully ease anymore. "I love you."
"I love you too." He'd said it like a prayer, his forehead pressing against mine, his breath warm on my skin, his scent wrapping around me like a promise. "More than anything."
Sawyer had been standing in the doorway of the barn when I left, his pale eyes tracking me across the yard, his scarred hands hanging loose at his sides, his body tense with that watchful stillness that meant he was fighting the urge to follow. I'd waved at him, tried to smile, tried to project a confidence I didn't entirely feel. He'd nodded once, sharp and quick, but hadn't moved from his post.
Kol had caught me at the gate, appearing from nowhere with that easy grace of his, his golden eyes bright with forced cheer, his sunshine scent carrying undercurrents of worry he couldn't quite hide.
"Bring me back something sweet?" He'd asked, his voice light but his hands tight where they gripped my shoulders, his thumbs tracing small circles on my collarbones, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Marley always has those honey candies I like."
"I'll see what I can do." I'd pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin, breathing in his citrus and sunshine scent that had become synonymous with comfort, with home. "I'll be back before you know it."
"You better be." The lightness in his voice had cracked, just for a moment, revealing the fear beneath, his golden eyes going dark and serious. "We can't lose you, wildflower. Not now. Not ever."
That had been two hours ago.
Now I was walking back along the county road, the bolt of emerald silk wrapped in brown paper and tucked under my arm, the afternoon sun warm on my face. The visit to Marley's had been good — she'd exclaimed over the fabric, helped me plan the pattern, pressed a cup of tea and a plate of cookies into my hands despite my protests. For an hour, I'd felt almost normal. Almost like the threat of Easton wasn't hanging over everything like a storm cloud.
The road was quiet — empty fields stretching out on either side, tall grass swaying in the breeze, the distant lowing of cattle carrying on the wind. Wildflowers dotted the ditches, purple and yellow and white, bobbing in the gentle breeze. A hawk circled overhead, riding the thermals, its shadow passing over the road like a dark omen. I could see Longhorn's gate in the distance, maybe half a mile ahead, the iron arch with its longhorn skull glinting in the sunlight.
Almost home.
The sound of an engine broke the silence.
I turned, shading my eyes against the sun, watching a vehicle approach from behind. My heart rate spiked — old instincts, never fully buried — but I forced myself to keep walking. It was probably just a neighbor, a delivery truck, someone passing through. The road saw traffic all the time. There was no reason to panic. No reason to run.
The engine was getting closer. Too close. And the sound was familiar — sleek and expensive and completely wrong. I started walking faster, my boots kicking up dust, my heart pounding against my ribs. The gate was still too far. The fields on either side offered no cover, no hiding places, just endless grass and open sky. My breath came shorter, my palms growing damp, my scent shifting to something sharp and bitter with fear I couldn't suppress.
The black truck pulled up beside me, matching my pace, the tinted window rolling down with a soft whir that made my stomach drop.
"Well, well." Easton's voice slithered out, smooth as oil, making my skin crawl and my stomach lurch with revulsion, his cultured tones dripping with satisfaction. "Look who I found. All alone on a deserted road." His smile was sharp and predatory, his dark eyes glittering with triumph as he leaned one elbow on the window frame, his perfectly styled hair catching the sunlight, the scratches I'd left on his cheek weeks ago now faded to faint pink lines. "Finally caught you without your guard dogs."
I didn't answer. Didn't look at him. Just kept walking, faster now, my fingers tightening on the package under my arm until the paper crinkled, my breath coming short and sharp, my legs eating up ground that didn't seem to shrink the distance to safety.
"Don't be rude, little Omega." His voice hardened, something dangerous creeping into the cultured tones, his smile turning cruel, his eyes going cold and flat like a shark's. "I just want to talk."
"I have nothing to say to you." My voice came out steady despite the fear clawing at my throat, my eyes fixed on the gate ahead, calculating distance, calculating time, my heart hammering so hard I could hear it in my ears, feel it pulsing in my neck. "Leave me alone."
"See, that's the problem." The truck accelerated slightly, pulling ahead of me, gravel crunching beneath the tires, and then the brakes squealed as it swerved to block my path. The driver's door flew open, and Easton stepped out, his expensive suit jacket flapping in the breeze, his leather shoes gleaming in the afternoon light, his smile all teeth and no warmth. "You keep saying no. And I'm not very good at hearing no."
I stopped, my body going rigid, every instinct screaming at me to run. But there was nowhere to go. The fields offered no cover — just open grass that would slow me down while he ran me down like prey. The gate was too far. And Easton was between me and home, his broad shoulders blocking the road, his stance wide and confident.
