I have always come through for my family, even from the shadows. When Ava’s family tried to flee the country after years of poisoning her life, I brought them back in chains. When Beck was drowning in addiction and shame, I was the one place he could run where no one would ask questions before safety.
When assassins came for Tessa, sent by a man who believed money could erase consequences, I helped Jace erase him first. When Cole’s ex-wife and her accomplice planted a bomb meant to kill Ella and Cole, meant to tear this ranch apart from the inside, I tracked them down like an animal and delivered justice with my own hands.
I have never asked them for anything in return, until today. Now it is my war at the gate, and I feel something unfamiliar in my chest as I realize I am not standing alone in it.
Zane’s voice breaks the silence first. “Are you ready?”
It isn’t a question, so I nod once. “Yes.”
Beck’s grin is sharp, humor thin as wire. “Guess you finally brought your work home.”
Dad’s eyes cut to him. “Enough.”
Beck sobers immediately.
Jace checks the comms unit on the table. “Tessa will be running eyes and feeds from the basement office.”
My sister-in-law looks soft until she’s behind a screen, and then she’s the most dangerous kind of person: the one who sees everything. Now that’s the kind of person I want having my back.
I pull on my vest, the familiar weight settling over my chest like an old truth. The weapon fits my hand like it always has, as war has never been foreign to me. This time, only the stakes have changed.
Zane chambers a round, the sound final in the heavy air. “They come here,” he says, voice low and absolute, “they die here.”
I feel my mouth curve, small and lethal. “Hoo-ah.”
Before we move out, we split, not by command, but by instinct. We Morgan men don’t go out to war without first touching what we’re fightingfor.
I head upstairs, where Kate is standing by the crib in our bedroom, one hand resting on the rail, the other curled around Julian’s tiny fist as he sleeps, blissfully unaware that the worldoutside this room is sharpening its knives. Her shoulders are tense, chin lifted like she’s holding herself together on borrowed strength.
She looks up when she senses me. I cross the room and press my forehead briefly to hers, breathing her in because I might need to remember this exact moment later.
Her fingers clutch my shirt. “Come back,” she pleads.
“I will,” I vow.
I kiss Julian’s forehead, gentle as I know how to be, then pull back before I can linger too long. Addison and I brush shoulders at the door.
“Don’t die out there. My godson needs his father,” she demands.
“I won’t,” I assure her, and that’s all that’s exchanged between us.
In the hallway, I pass Zane coming out of his room. He’s all foreman steel on the outside, but his hand is shaking just slightly as he shuts the door behind him. Ava’s inside with Luella, humming softly.
Down the hall, Jace is crouched to Daisy’s level, hands braced on her shoulders, eyes serious but calm. Tessa stands behind him, one hand on his back, steadying him as much as the child.
“You remember what to do?” Jace asks.
Daisy nods. “Stay with Aunt Ella. Don’t open the door.”
“Good girl,” he praises, kissing her forehead.
Beck comes out of his room last, Quinn’s arm around his waist. Oliver is tucked against her chest, asleep, unaware of the danger that his father is about to step into. Beck kisses Quinn’s temple, murmurs something only she hears. She nods once, jaw set.
Ella waits at the bottom of the stairs, Cole beside her, hand laced through hers, Aria standing between them. She watches us all like she’s counting heads, making sure no one goes missing before the fight even starts.
Dad stands at the center of it all, silent, shoulders squared, eyes hard with a kind of pride that doesn’t soften the fear. Everyone is where they’re supposed to be, and they know what’s coming.
I take one last look at the house, the people in it, the lives stacked carefully behind these walls, and something inside me locks into place as we roll out.
