And as the sun broke fully over the horizon, painting the kitchen in gold, I felt something uncoil in my chest—a tension I’d been carrying so long I’d almost forgotten it was there. We had a plan. We had Sterling. And we had each other.
Whatever happened next—whatever Dennis tried, whatever moves he made—we’d be ready. Not just to survive, but to thrive. To build the future we’d started together, safe behind walls that couldn’t be breached.
The quiet had settled into something far more formidable—the particular stillness that came before action, the calm before purposeful storm. And as Danny turned from the window, meeting my eyes across the kitchen with a small, sure smile, I knew we’d made the right choice.
Sterling was here.
And nothing would touch what was ours.
Chapter Sixteen
~ Danny ~
I gripped the edges of the seat as Burke’s truck hit another pothole, my stomach lurching uncomfortably. The morning sickness had mostly passed at twelve weeks, but apparently my body had replaced it with a new sensitivity to every bump in the road.
My hands drifted to my barely-there bump, a protective gesture that had become second nature in the weeks since we’d confirmed the pregnancy.
“Sorry,” Burke murmured, slowing down as we approached another rough patch. His hand reached across the console to squeeze my knee. “You doing okay?”
I nodded, though my stomach disagreed. “Just nervous, I guess.”
It wasn’t just the appointment making me fidget. Dr. Winters had been nothing but kind during my first visit—a fellow omega with gentle hands and a voice that somehow managed to make even the most clinical terms sound comforting. But this was different.
Today we’d hear the heartbeat. Today it would become real in a way it hadn‘t been before, despite the morning sickness and the exhaustion and the strange cravings for pickles dipped in peanut butter at three in the morning.
“You know Sterling followed us, right?” Burke’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. “Two cars back. Black sedan.”
I twisted in my seat, catching a glimpse of the vehicle Burke had mentioned. I couldn’t see Sterling’s face behind the tinted windshield, but just knowing he was there made some of the tension ease from my shoulders.
In the weeks since his arrival at the ranch, Sterling had become a constant, silent presence at the periphery of our lives.He moved like a shadow—there when you needed him, invisible when you didn’t.
I’d grown used to spotting him in odd moments—a silhouette against the dawn sky as he finished his night patrol, a still figure at the edge of the property line when I stepped onto the porch for fresh air.
“I’m glad,” I admitted, turning back around as we entered the town limits of Black Butte. “Makes me feel safer.”
Burke’s jaw tightened imperceptibly, the only sign that my words had struck a nerve. I knew it bothered him that Sterling’s presence was necessary—that he couldn’t protect us alone. But neither of us mentioned it as we pulled into the small parking lot beside Dr. Winters’ clinic.
I was halfway out of the truck when I saw him.
Dennis.
Standing across the street, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket, watching the clinic entrance with narrowed eyes. He was just far enough away to not technically violate the restraining order. Five hundred and one feet, probably. He’d always been good with details like that—finding the exact edge of a rule so he could claim he wasn‘t breaking it.
My blood went cold. My hand flew to my stomach, instinctive and protective.
“Burke,” I whispered, the word barely making it past the sudden knot in my throat. “He’s here.”
Burke’s head snapped up, following my gaze to where Dennis stood beneath the awning of the hardware store. His face hardened into something dangerous, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he clenched his teeth.
“I see him, baby,” he said, his voice deceptively calm despite the tension radiating from his body. He stepped closer to me, one arm coming around my waist. “Let’s get you inside.”
The short walk to the clinic door felt endless, Dennis’s eyes boring into my back with every step. I kept my gaze fixed ahead, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear. But my heart hammered against my ribs, and my palms were slick with sweat by the time Burke pulled the door open.
The clinic’s reception area was mercifully empty except for the middle-aged beta at the front desk, who smiled warmly as we approached.
“Danny Jenkins?” she asked, already reaching for a clipboard. “Dr. Winters is expecting you. Go right on back to room three.”
Burke’s hand remained at the small of my back as we walked down the short hallway, his thumb rubbing small circles through my shirt. A gesture of comfort, but also possession—a silent declaration that I wasn’t alone anymore.
