I nod so fast tears spill out.
Relief shakes through me when he gathers me into his arms and pulls me into his lap. My body moves closer before I can stop it. His warmth surrounds me, but his hands stay respectful—one on my back, one cradling my head.
“There,” he whispers. “Just breathe, sweetheart. You can fall apart on me. I’ll hold you together.”
I let myself fold into him completely. The trembling eases. My heartbeat steadies under his palm. His chest rises and falls against my cheek in a rhythm my body latches onto.
“I want your comfort, Briar. That’s the most important thing right now. That you feel safe in your heart,” he says into my hair. “No more terror, okay?”
I nod against his throat. For the first time, want and safety don’t feel like enemies inside me. Closing my eyes, let the nerves skating under my skin settle.
And the dark doesn’t press so close.
Chapter Six
Rafe
I’m splitting kindling outside when I hear footsteps on the trail—too steady to be Briar, too light to be Knox, too fast to be Boone. I wipe my hands on my pants as Silas steps into the clearing, breath clouding the air, jaw tight.
“Morning,” I say, though the look on his face tells me this isn’t a social call.
Silas glances toward the cabin door, then back at me. “We need to talk.”
I nod and lead him around the side of the cabin, away from any windows. He doesn’t waste time.
“Tracks near the ridge,” he says. “Boot prints. Heavy stride. Drag marks beside them like someone was hauled or stumbling. We followed them east until they cut off on rock.”
My chest goes cold. “How fresh?”
“Not old.” His voice drops. “And they match Daryl’s weight.”
The quiet that follows is dangerous. My hands curl into fists before I realize it. I force them open.
Silas studies me, then speaks lower. “I know she’s here, Rafe. Word moves fast—Mama Rue asked Tandy to prep extra furs for a woman’s bed. Mercy’s been scarce. You’ve been gone for two days.”
A beat.
“You don’t have to explain. But you do need to know—if Daryl’s sniffing around, he’s doing it for one reason.”
My stomach knots. “He wants her back.”
Silas nods. “Or wants to destroy what he thinks he lost control of.”
The words hit hard. I straighten, breath steadying into something colder, sharper. “He won’t touch her again. Not while she’s under my roof.”
“Didn’t think he would.” Silas claps my shoulder once, firm. “We’ll double patrols. Elias’s already on the ridge. Knox is down by the river trail. But keep your doors bolted, and don’t leave her alone.”
“I won’t.”
A small sound hits the air behind us—thin, sharp, breaking. My blood chills.
I turn.
Briar stands in the doorway. Bare feet. Blanket around her shoulders. Eyes wide—far too wide—locked on me. Something inside me locks just as hard. Her forehead creases, her irises suddenly darkening.
She heard. Every word.
“Briar,” I say gently.
