"I need to get her out of here." My voice didn't sound like mine — too rough, too broken, too close to the animal I'd just been. "I need to take her home."
"Nolan's pulling up now." Reid squeezed my shoulder, then released me, stepping back to give us space. "Can you carry her? Her ankle's injured."
I didn't answer with words. Just shifted my grip, slid one arm under her knees, and lifted her like she weighed nothing, cradling her against my chest like the precious thing she was. She curled into me immediately, her face pressing into my neck, her tears hot against my skin, her hand fisting in my bloody shirt.
I stepped over Easton's body without looking at him. He was still breathing — barely, wetly, but breathing. Part of me wanted to go back and finish what I'd started. Part of me wanted to feel his life drain away under my hands, wanted to make absolutely certain he could never hurt her again, could never hurt anyone again.
Aster needed me. Aster needed me whole, not lost to the darkness, not consumed by the violence that lived in my blood.
So I kept walking.
The sunlight outside was blinding after the dimness of that room, golden and warm and clean, and I had to blink against it, my eyes adjusting slowly. Kol was there, his face pale and tear-streaked, his golden eyes bright with relief and horror in equal measure, his hands reaching out like he wanted to touch her but was afraid to. Nolan's SUV was skidding to a stop in the gravel drive, the door flying open before the vehicle had fully stopped, his lean frame launching out and sprinting toward us, his medical bag already in hand.
"Oh god." Nolan's voice cracked when he saw her, his hazel eyes filling with tears, his hands reaching out and then stopping, trembling in the air like he was afraid to touch her, afraid to hurt her more. "Aster. Oh god, sweetheart."
"She's alive." My voice came out as a growl, protective, possessive. "She's hurt, but she's alive. Fix her."
"Give her to me." Nolan's voice steadied, professionalism taking over, his hands firm and certain now as he guided me toward the SUV. "Put her in the back. I need to assess?—"
"I'm not letting go of her." The words came out before I could stop them, feral and final. Nolan met my eyes, and something passed between us — understanding, maybe, or acceptance. He nodded once.
"Then get in with her. Hold her still while I work." I climbed into the back of the SUV, Aster still cradled in my arms, and Nolan followed, his medical bag appearing from somewhere, his hands already moving over her with gentle efficiency. She whimpered when he touched her ankle, cried out when he probed the swelling on her face, but through all of it, she kept her grip on my shirt, her fingers twisted in the bloody fabric like it was the only thing keeping her anchored to the world.
"Sawyer." Her voice was small, exhausted, her eyes fluttering open to find mine. "You came."
"Always." The word scraped out of my throat, rough with emotion I couldn't contain. "I'll always come for you. I'll always find you. No matter what. No matter where."
"I know." A ghost of a smile crossed her cracked, bloody lips. "I knew you would. I knew all of you would come for me” I pressed my forehead to hers, breathing her in, letting her scent wash away the lingering smell of Easton, of that wrong place, of blood and violence and fear.
"Mine." The word rumbled out of me, primal and possessive and true. "You're mine. You're safe. You're mine."
"Yours." She whispered it back, her eyes closing, her body finally relaxing in my arms as the adrenaline faded and exhaustion took hold. Nolan was saying something — medical terms, instructions, something about the hospital in the next county, something about keeping her stable — but I wasn't listening. I was watching Aster's face, watching the tension slowly drain from her features, watching her breathing even out as she slipped into unconscious sleep, her hand still fisted in my shirt.
She was alive. She was hurt, but she was alive. And I was never, ever letting her out of my sight again. The SUV started moving, Kol at the wheel, Reid in the passenger seat already on the phone coordinating with the other ranchers, with the state police, with lawyers who would make sure Easton never saw freedom again.
I stayed in the back, holding Aster, watching her sleep, letting the feral edge slowly recede back into the darkness where it belonged.
Mine.
The word echoed through me with every beat of my heart, settling into my bones, becoming truth.
Safe.
She stirred slightly, murmuring something I couldn't hear, and I pulled her closer, pressing my lips to her hair.
Mine.
CHAPTER FIFTY
ASTER
I woke slowly. First came the smell — cedar and pine and earth and sunshine, layered together like a blanket, wrapping around me so completely that for a moment I forgot everything else. The scents were familiar, beloved, achingly safe in a way that made my throat tight with emotion. Then came the warmth, bodies pressed close on either side of me, steady breathing and quiet heartbeats creating a rhythm that felt like safety, like home, like everything I'd been afraid I'd never feel again. Then came the pain — my ankle throbbing dully beneath bandages, my face tight and swollen where Easton's hand had connected, my lip cracked and tender, my ribs aching with every breath.
Then came the memories.
I jerked upright with a gasp, my heart slamming against my ribs, my hands flying up to defend myself against a threat that wasn't there. The movement sent pain shooting through my ankle, through my bruised ribs, through every part of me that Easton had touched. His face flashed behind my eyes — that coldsmile, those hungry eyes, his voice whispering about breaking me, owning me, making me forget everyone I loved.
"Easy." Nolan's voice came from my left, soft and soothing, cutting through the panic like a beam of light, his hand finding mine in the dim light, his fingers warm and gentle as they wrapped around my trembling fist. "Easy, sweetheart. You're safe. You're home."
