My gaze snaps to the far side of the property, toward the leaning brick silo. There’s a truck parked near it now, one I didn’t see before. Ken stands at the open bed, hauling heavy bags down one by one, muscles flexing under his shirt.
Something inside me goes cold.
Before the rage can crest, before it can spill, I reach inward and lock down my bond.
I don’t ease it. I don’t soften it. I shut it completely, folding it in on itself until there’s nothing left for Tansy to feel. No heat. No violence. No satisfaction. I wall her off from what I’m about to do, sealing her away somewhere quiet and safe where none of this can reach her.
Only then do I let myself really feel my rage. It tightens. Compresses. Burns down to a sharp, focused point.
I lift a hand and press it to Grason’s chest, stopping him. “But I see someone who is,” I say quietly.
Grason follows my line of sight.
The growl that leaves him is low and eager, rolling up from deep in his chest.
We don’t look at each other.
We turn as one and walk straight for the fucker.
The Field
Grason
The world is a tunnel,and at the end of it is Ken.
It takes everything in me not to break into a run, not to surge ahead and tear into him before Cass gets close. My instincts scream for speed, for violence, for blood. But I stay where I am, shoulder to shoulder with Cass, matching his pace step for step.
My breathing stays even by sheer force of will as everything narrows down to the distance between us and the crunch of dirt and grass under our boots.
Ken keeps unloading the truck, half turned away, moving like he doesn’t sense what’s coming right for him.
My fists tighten as we get closer, and Tansy’s beautiful face comes into view.
My perfect omega.
I picture her as a little girl, with her wild red hair andtrusting brown eyes. I see her small. Quiet. Hiding under the blankets as a monster slipped into the room.
The thought makes my vision blur at the edges.
We’re twenty feet away. Then ten.
Ken must feel us coming, because he straightens and then turns. For half a second, he looks confused as he looks at Cass, but then his eyes meet mine, and the fire in my gut explodes.
But Cass moves first.
There's a blur of motion beside me as Cass moves with a speed that defies his bad leg. It’s a pure, explosive burst of alpha fury. Before Ken can even register the shift in my expression, before anyone can draw a breath, Cass's fist connects with Ken's face.
It's a sickening, wet crack.
Bone hitting bone.
Ken's head snaps back, and he staggers backward, hands flying up too late as he hits the side of the truck and slides to the ground in a heap.
Blood instantly gushes from his nose, a shocking, vivid red against his white T-shirt.
I’m moving the instant it happens, not to stop Cass, but to flank him. My pulse roars in my ears, every instinct screaming finish it, but I keep myself leashed to Cass’s shoulder.
Ken coughs, wheezing, one hand braced on the truck, the other clutching his face. He looks up, shock giving way to dawning fear as he really sees us. “What the fuck?” he growls deep in his chest.
