I follow blood first—thin streaks, smeared on a rock, a single drop caught on a leaf’s edge like a ruby. Then tracks—small, light, frantic, weaving between roots.
And then—
A shape ahead. A man. Broad shoulders. Mud splattered up his back. He scans the treeline, muttering Lucky’s name like a curse.
Sheifer.
I lower myself behind a fallen log, breath steady, pulse sharp. I can’t see Lucky. My heart knocks hard—too hard—but I force it down. Panic gets men killed.
I edge forward.
Sam ghosts into my peripheral vision, far left, closing in.
We’re seconds from taking this bastard down—
A thud cracks through the clearing.
Sheifer jerks forward—and collapses.
Lucky stands behind him, wild and shaking, fingers still clenched around a rock slick with dirt. Her eyes are huge, unfocused. Her chest heaves like she can’t pull enough air in.
I break cover instantly. “Lucky!”
She spins toward me, feral, terrified—and bolts.
“No—hey—Lucky!” I catch her before she can vanish into the trees. She thrashes, half-delirious, nails digging into my arms.
“It’s me,” I breathe, hauling her close, anchoring her shaking body against my chest. “It’s me. You’re safe. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
Her breath stutters. Her knees buckle. She sags into me, still trembling so hard I feel it in my bones.
Behind us, Sam is already on Sheifer—checking vitals, binding wrists with zip ties he pulled from nowhere, his face carved from stone. He looks up and meets my gaze over Sheifer’s unconscious body.
A silent exchange.
A decision.
A plan Lucky never needs to know.
I hold her tighter, tucking her head under my chin, shielding her from the sight.
“You’re safe now,” I whisper again, even though my pulse is still roaring.
Because safe is something I will make true.
Even if I have to tear this entire forest apart to do it.
Lucky whispers into my shirt, voice cracked and small, “Ethan…?”
“I’ve got you,” I breathe, holding her tighter. “I’m not letting anything touch you again.”
Chapter 36
Lucky
Ethan’shouseistooquiet.
Notbad,quiet. Just… quiet enough that my brain keeps checking for threats like a paranoid raccoon that’s been fed caffeine and childhood trauma.
