“Males with no respect for creation,” Greel said, his hands clenched into fists. “They’ll pay for this.”
“The ki-ki-kiln was custom-built,” I said. “It’ll take months to replace, if I can even find the same parts.”
“We’ll help you rebuild it,” Becken said, his voice brooking no argument. “Better than before. And we’ll add security measures to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
“The whole family will help.” Ostor’s hand dropped onto my shoulder. “Whatever you need.”
The matter-of-fact way they talked about rebuilding, the automatic assumption that we’d restore everything, made my chest ache with gratitude. This was what family meant, not just blood, but the people who stood with you when everything fell apart. Who saw your dreams destroyed and immediately started planning to rebuild them bigger.
“Right now, we need to focus on our next moves.” Dungar brought us back to the immediate situation, explaining his plan to hide us until Detective Fernandez could be ready. “Hail, can you and Allie be packed and moved to my place within the hour?”
“I don’t have much to gather,” Allie said quietly, her fingers squeezing tight.
“Good.” Dungar was already moving into operational mode, taking over in his sheriff’s role. “Greel, ask around town. Find out if anyone saw anything suspicious.”
“On it.” Greel nodded, already heading for the door.
“Ostor, Tark—I want you two monitoring the road between Hail’s place and mine. I don’t want them seeing Allie and Hail going to his home or then on to mine. They must suspect we’re hiding her, but we can’t give away the secure location.”
“I’ve got just the right set-up for that.” Tark’s gaze met mine. “Remember that wagon I built?”
I nudged his shoulder. “Perfect.”
He strode toward the door. “Meet me out back in about twenty minutes.”
Allie’s concerned gaze met mine, and I leaned close, telling her about Tark’s false-bottom wagon he’d crafted with tourists in mind—for fake heists—and she gave me a wan smile.
“How can I help?” Becken asked.
“First, I want you to provide cover for Tark,” Dungar said. “When you reach my home with Allie and Hail, you can help me set up more surveillance equipment. If they figure out where Allie really is, we need to be ready for them.”
Becken looked my way. “You can rely on me.”
My brothers scattered to their tasks, leaving me alone with Allie among the ruins of my pottery barn, though two of my brothers remained outside, watching.
Allie stared at a broken bowl, the first piece she’d successfully thrown on the wheel, with the slightly lopsided rim that marked it as beginner’s work.
“So sad,” she said, picking up a shard with the familiar glaze. “You were proud when I got the walls even.”
“I still am.” I knelt beside her among the wreckage. “It’s not about the pottery, Allie. It’s about what you achieved, the confidence you found in creation. They can’t destroy that.”
She looked up at me with such love and pain in her eyes that it took my breath away. “How aren’t furious with me?”
“Because I love you more than pottery. Because you’re alive and safe and in my arms. Because we’re going to get through this.”
“What if the detective’s trap doesn’t work? What if Will is smarter than we think?”
I stroked her cheek, feeling the dampness of her tears. The trust in her expression, even while fear clouded her eyes, humbled me completely.
“We’re never giving up.”
“You really mean that.”
“I do.” I kissed her, tasting salt and sorrow and determination on her mouth. “We’re mates now, remember? That means for-for-forever, no matter what comes.”
“Mates,” she whispered against my lips.
“You’re not facing this alone anymore. You’ve got a whole family of orcs ready to fight for you.”
