The snow swallowed our footsteps as Dad, Becket, and I moved toward the north fence line. We were silent. The air had that electric quiet to it, the kind that prickled the back of your neck before a storm or a strike. Behind us, Harmony was inside with Asher. Dad had told Sandy to stay upstairs the second we brought Olivier into the house. Sandy didn’t argue. I couldn’t blame her for taking the steps two at a time. Olivier was roughed up. It was hard to see.
But Asher wasn’t fazed by much. None of us brothers were. And if anyone could hold a line until we returned, it was him.
Becket’s radio crackled. “Trail cam just pinged again. Motion from the west side.”
Dad cursed under his breath. “He’s testing our response time.”
My jaw tightened as we fanned out, Dad taking point, his hand ready on his holster. Becket looped right, while I held center. I wasn’t letting anything slip past me. Not with Harmony shaken and Olivier bleeding on our rug.
The orchard loomed ahead, there were too many places to hide. A twig snapped to our left. Dad’s hand shot up, signaling stillness. His voice was barely a whisper.
“Eyes up. He’s close.”
The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was listening. And then… movement. A tall figure stepped out from between the trees with slow, controlled, calculated precision.
Ravenhill.
His dark coat blended with the shadows, but his posture was unmistakably balanced, steady, predatory. A man who knew exactly how much fear he created with stillness alone.
Dad’s voice sharpened. “Hands where I can see them.”
This Ravenhill, or whoever the hell he was, didn’t lift his hands. Instead, he tilted his head like he was examining us, assessing our formation, cataloguing our reactions. Like we were the ones playing catch-up.
“Step aside,” he said, voice calm, almost bored. “I’m not here for you.”
“Too bad,” Becket snapped. “Because you found us.”
Ravenhill’s gaze cut to him briefly. Then to Dad. Then to me. He lingered on me a second longer.
“You’re wasting time,” he said quietly.
“What does that mean?” I asked, pulse slamming.
His reply was a faint exhale like he was amused. “He doesn’t like being interrupted,” Ravenhill murmured.
And my blood ran cold. Not because of the words. But because he glanced past us toward the house. Toward Harmony.
Dad barked, “Move in!”
Becket surged left; I broke right. A metallic crack split the air. We dove as something sliced past, embedding into the tree trunk behind me with a violent thud. Not a bullet. Not a blade. A distraction. When I looked up, Ravenhill was already fading into the trees, steps impossibly quiet, posture untouched by urgency.
“This way!” Becket shouted, sprinting after him.
Dad followed hard.
But I froze for half a second as the truth settled in my chest like a stone: He wasn’t trying to escape us. He’d been stalling us. Keeping us away from the house. Keepingmeaway from Harmony. My radio buzzed violently at my hip.
Asher’s voice, low and sharp.
“Eric, get back here. Now.”
My heart stopped. Then I ran. I didn’t look back. Didn’t check if Dad or Becket were behind me. The only thing I saw was the house. The only thing I heard was Harmony’s last whispered plea. “Don’t let him take you too.”
As I sprinted across the snow-packed yard, the world narrowed to a single point, Harmony.
CHAPTER 56
Harmony
