“It’s him, Fern. Your ex. He’s found you.”
She shakes her head, but I can see the fear creeping into her eyes. “You don’t know that. It could be anyone. A neighbor, a delivery person—”
“I know what I smelled.” I take a step toward her, and she backs herself further against the door. “This wasn’t some random passerby. Someone stood outside your window long enough to leave a trail. Someone who doesn’t belong here.”
“No.” Her voice comes out thin and reedy. “No, he can’t have found me. I was so careful. I paid cash for everything and turned off my phone’s location and took back roads the whole way—”
“He’s been tracking you from the start. You know that.”
The color drains from her face. Her breathing goes shallow and fast, and her hands start to shake where they’ve clasped her own arms. I recognize the signs of a panic attack building.
I close the distance between us and take her by the shoulders. “Look at me, Fern.”
She doesn’t respond. Her eyes have gone glassy and unfocused, and her chest heaves with each rapid breath.
“Fern.” I give her a gentle shake. “You’re safe. Do you hear me? You’re safe.”
“I’m not.” The words come out between gasps. “I’ll never be safe. He always finds me. He always—”
I pull her against my chest, wrap my arms around her, and hold on tight. She fights me for a second, pushing at my shoulders and trying to twist away. But I don’t let go. I just holdher and let her struggle until the fight drains out of her and she sags against me with a broken sob.
“Listen to me,” I speak the words into her hair. “This is pack territory. Every wolf in Silvercreek would die before they let someone hurt you here. You’re one of us now, human or not.”
She trembles in my arms. I can feel her heart pounding against my chest, can smell the fear rolling off her skin. My wolf paces restlessly inside me and demands I hunt down the threat and eliminate it. But right now, she needs me here. She needs to know she’s not facing this by herself.
I would do anything to protect her. Anything. Even if she hates me for it.
“He won’t touch you,” I promise. “Not while I’m breathing.”
For a long moment, she just stands there with her face buried in my shirt and her fingers curled into the fabric. I stroke her hair and let her breathe, waiting for the panic to pass. The clock on her wall ticks steadily. Outside, the dog has stopped barking. Everything is quiet except for the sound of her ragged breathing slowly evening out.
Then she pulls back.
“Don’t,” she demands, her voice now steel. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like you’re my savior.” She takes a step away from me, swiping at her eyes. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, Connor. I survived three years with Robbie. I got myself out of New York. I made it all the way here on my own.”
“I know you did.”
“Then stop treating me like some damsel in distress.” Her chin comes up, and I see the fire returning to her eyes. “All you’ve done since I got here is make my life miserable. You forced me into a marriage I didn’t want. You took me to bed and then disappeared without a word. And now you show up at my door talking about protection like you’re some kind of hero?”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“I don’t need your help.” She jabs a finger at my chest. “I don’t need the pack’s help. I don’t need anyone’s help. What I need is for you to leave me the hell alone.”
My wolf whines in protest, but I force myself to take a step back. Then another.
“Fine,” I relent with a nod. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
“Then I’ll go.” I move toward the door, and she steps aside to let me pass. “But Fern? Lock your doors tonight. And if you see anything strange, anything at all, you call me. Not Ruby, not Skylar. Me.”
She doesn’t respond. Just stands there with her arms wrapped around herself and her eyes blazing with anger and fear in equal measure.
I open the door and step out onto the porch. I pull another breath into my lungs and search for that human scent, but it’s faded now. Carried away by the evening breeze.
