I turned to him, unable to contain the emotions surging through me. “They got them. The Blainsworth brothers. They’re in federal custody.”
His eyes widened. “You mean?—”
“I’m free.” Saying it out loud made it feel real. “The people who were hunting me are in jail. I don’t have to run anymore.”
For a moment, Dungar simply stared at me, processing the implications. Then his face transformed with a joy so pure it stole my breath. He lifted me off my feet, spinning me in a circle before setting me down again.
“You’re safe,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Truly safe.”
I nodded, tears blurring my vision. “I can stay in Lonesome Creek, Dungar.”
“With me?” The vulnerability in his question made my heart ache.
“With you.” I stroked his face, tracing the strong line of his jaw. “If you’ll have me.”
His answer was a kiss that nearly buckled my knees, fierce and tender all at once. His arms enveloped me, creating a fortress of warmth and security I never wanted to leave. When he finally pulled back, his dark eyes glistened with tears.
“I would’ve protected you forever,” he said gruffly. “Even if they’d never been caught.”
“I know.” This methodical, careful orc would have moved the very plain itself to keep me safe. “But now we can build a life without looking over our shoulders.”
The realization bloomed inside me like the prettiest sunrise: I could truly commit to this life, to this town, to this remarkable male who had stolen my heart. For thefirst time in years, my future stretched out ahead of me, not a series of temporary safe houses and assumed names. This life could be something real and permanent.
I belonged here. With Dungar, his aunt, and his brothers and their mates. In this quirky town with its tourist attractions and genuine community. The golden mark on my wrist wasn’t just a symbol of orc magic, it was a promise I could finally keep.
“Let’s finish this case, then we can celebrate properly.”
Dungar’s slow, heated smile sent warmth spiraling through my core. “I look forward to that, breela.”
The sun had fully risenby the time we reached the luminook pens, casting long shadows across the trampled grass where we’d pursued the intruder. After we’d removed the spider web from the camera, carefully relocating the spider to a better location, Dungar and I checked each security sensor we’d installed around the perimeter.
“This one’s been moved.” He crouched beside the small device nearly hidden in the tall grass. “It’s facing the wrong direction.”
I stooped down, studying the sensor. “You’re right. It’s been turned about fifteen degrees east of where we placed it.”
“Check the others,” he said, already moving to the next one.
What we found disturbed us both. Nearly half of our carefully placed motion sensors had been disabled or repositioned, creating blind spots in our surveillance network. Someone had studied our security setup and found ways to move through our defenses undetected.
“This wasn’t a random thing,” I said, holding a sensor without a battery. “This was deliberate.”
“They’ve been watching us for days, learning our patterns, finding the weaknesses in our system.”
“We need a comprehensive security review.” I glanced toward the luminook pens where the creatures huddled together, their spines glowing. “Before they make another attempt.”
For the next several hours, we cataloged every sensor, camera, and alarm on the property. Dungar created a new map, marking compromised equipment in red, functioning systems in green. The resulting pattern showed clear paths where someone could move undetected.
“They knew exactly what they were doing,” I said, standing to stretch my back after bending over the map for too long. “This isn’t amateur work.”
“Agreed.”
As we worked our way around the perimeter, checking each piece of equipment, I noticed something white laying on the ground where the intruder had fled from the back area of the luminook pens.
I crouched, using a pen to carefully lift a tourist brochure for Lonesome Creek, the glossy surface wornand heavily creased. Some sections had been circled in red ink, specifically the luminook tour schedule.
“Do you think it belongs to the person we were chasing?” I asked.
“Perhaps.”
