Chloe's druid blood. Her connection to the soil. When she was here, working in Freya's garden or walking through hisorchard, he could feel her presence like a warmth at the edge of his awareness. Not the mate bond, exactly. Something older. Something tied to the land they both loved.
Now that warmth was gone. The land had gone silent because she had.
He pressed the accelerator harder, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. The Hearth & Hollow Inn appeared around the bend, its windows glowing soft gold against the night. Diana's car was in the drive. So was another car he didn't recognize.
Small. Blue. Battered green suitcase visible through the back window.
Chloe.
He was out of the truck before it fully stopped, taking the porch steps two at a time. The door opened before he could knock, and Diana Merrick stood in the entrance, her honey-blonde hair loose around her shoulders, her amber eyes sharp with warning.
"She doesn't want to see anyone."
"I don't care."
"Corin." Diana didn't move from the doorway. "She came here because she needed somewhere safe. Somewhere no one would pressure her."
"I'm not going to pressure her. I just need to know she's okay."
"She's not okay. She's upstairs, crying, convinced she's the reason this town is falling apart." Diana's voice softened slightly. "Give her tonight. Let her rest. You can talk in the morning."
"I can't." The words came out raw, desperate. "I can't just leave her here thinking she has to run. That's not... she doesn't have to run. Not from me. Not from any of this."
"Then tell her that. Tomorrow."
"Diana."
"She asked me not to let anyone up." Diana crossed her arms, her small frame somehow immovable. "I'm not going to break that promise. Not even for you."
He wanted to push past her and storm up those stairs and find Chloe and make her understand that leaving would break him in ways he didn't know how to survive. But Diana was right. Chloe had asked for this. Had chosen to come here specifically because she knew Diana would protect her space.
If he pushed now, he'd only prove that her fears were justified. That she couldn't trust anyone to respect her choices.
"Tell her I came," he said finally. "Tell her I'm not angry. Tell her..." He swallowed hard. "Tell her the land went quiet when she left. I felt it. The whole town felt it. She belongs here, Diana. Whether she believes it or not."
"I'll tell her."
"And tell her I'll be here in the morning. First thing. And I'm not leaving until she talks to me."
"I'll tell her that too."
He stood on the porch for a long moment, staring at the inn's warm windows, knowing she was somewhere behind them. Close enough to touch. Too far to reach.
His bear howled inside him, demanding he go to her, claim her, make her understand that she was his and nothing would ever change that. But he held himself back.
This wasn't about what he wanted. It was about what she needed.
She needed to know she had choices. Needed to believe she could leave if she wanted to, that no one would force her to stay.
And then, tomorrow, he'd give her every reason to choose to come back.
He walked to his truck on legs that felt like lead. The drive home was a blur, the cold night pressing in from all sides, the silence of the land echoing the emptiness in his chest.
She was still here. Still in Hollow Oak. That was something.
But the fear remained, a cold knot in his stomach that wouldn't loosen.
He'd come so close to losing her. Still might, if he couldn't find the right words tomorrow. If he couldn't make her see that running wouldn't solve anything, that the only way through this was together.
