My heart jumped into my throat. “What if. . .”
“We don’t guess,” he snapped softly, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward the hallway. “We move, Harmony. Go.”
I stumbled after him, my body buzzing with fear so sharp I felt it in my teeth.
Olivier whimpered again, lifting his head weakly. “Don’t leave me.”
Asher stopped dead.
He looked at Olivier. Then at me. Then at the door again… where quiet steps that were too controlled to be wind or snow shifted across the porch. He exhaled once, steady and deadly calm.
“Okay,” Asher murmured. “Change of plan.”
He moved so fast I barely tracked it, dragging the heavy kitchen island stool in front of Olivier, shoving it against his shoulder to keep him from rolling.
“Harmony,” he said, turning back to me, voice low but sure, “you’re not leaving him.”
The world tilted. “What?”
“You heard me. You’re safer in open space with me than in a basement stairwell with one exit.” His gaze snapped back to the doorway. “He wants you. He’ll go where you go.”
His jaw flexed. He stepped in front of me, shoulders squared, every inch of his body coiled like a spring. “He’s not getting through me.”
A sharp crack hit the back window. Not breaking it but more like testing it. My breath caught in my throat.
Another sound came, this time it was closer. The porch boards creaked under deliberate weight. Asher lifted one hand, a signal I should be still. I was barely breathing.
“HARMONY! ASHER! GET BACK!” Eric’s voice tore through the radio like a detonator.
Asher grabbed my elbow and yanked me down behind the counter a split second before the back window shattered. Glass sprayed across the floor in a glittering arc. I screamed and covered my head as the masked figure hit the ground in a low, controlled crouch like he’d trained for this exact kind of entry. No hesitation. No confusion. He knew the layout, the angles. He was coming for me.
“Asher!” I choked.
Asher was already moving. He launched himself at the intruder with a force that cracked through the kitchen like thunder. Their bodies collided, the sound sickening and violent, all flesh, bone, and impact. They crashed into the cabinets, rattling dishes, sending a bowl shattering across the tiles.
“Run, Harmony!” Asher barked, shoving the intruder’s shoulder down to pin him.
But the man moved like liquid steel. He rolled his weight, flipped Asher halfway, and rose fast, landing a brutal elbow to Asher’s ribs. The grunt Asher let out wasn’t normal. It was pain.
“No! No, Asher!” I cried, scrambling backward.
The intruder didn’t look at Asher. He looked right at me. Through his mask his attention locked. A jolt of cold terror ripped through my chest. Olivier pushed up weakly on one elbow, voice a cracked whisper, “Harm… don’t let him touch you—don’t?—”
“Asher, get up!” I screamed. Asher did. Barely.
He surged forward again, slamming into the man’s side, grappling for control. They crashed into the island, knocking a cutting board to the floor, sending utensils scattering.
“For fuck’s sake, Harmony, MOVE!” Asher roared.
I stumbled backward, feet slipping on broken glass. My hands shook so hard I couldn’t find my balance. The intruder twisted, breaking Asher’s grip with a leverage move I’d only ever seen in videos of trained operatives. His gloved hand shot out not for Asher. But for me.
He reached and I froze like I was paralyzed in a nightmare where your body won’t listen, won’t move, won’t. . .
“Asher!” I gasped.
Asher slammed his forearm into the man’s throat, cutting off his reach. They spun, Asher dragging him away from me, wrestling for control, knocking into the back counter hard enough to rattle the spice rack.
“Harmony, go!” he yelled again, voice breaking with strain. I didn’t get the chance.
