Chapter 7 #2
“You think insurance covers demonic livestock?” I snort, then immediately regret it because the bull shifts its weight. Slow. Heavy. Like a threat that took its time.
“Okay,” I say, voice suddenly calm in a way that means I’m not calm at all. “We’re leaving.”
Kai nods fast. “Yep. Great plan. Love that plan.”
The bull takes a step toward us. Then another. Then it drops its head.
My stomach goes cold.
“It’s charging,” Kai says, and his voice goes weirdly calm, like his brain has accepted our deaths on principle. “Carter… it’s fucking charging.”
I slam the truck into reverse. Gravel spits. The tires scrabble like they’re trying to climb out of the earth.
The bull launches anyway.
It moves way too fast for something that must be Satan’s cattle. Hooves hammer the ground. The sound is a drumbeat that hits my spine.
“Go go go go,” Kai barks, suddenly all panic again. “Go, go, go!”
“I AM,” I snap, throwing the wheel to get us angled around, but the road is narrow and the truck is long, and the bull is closing in like it’s got a personal grudge.
Thirty yards.
Twenty.
Fifteen.
I can see the steam of its breath blowing white in the headlights. The shine of a horn. The thick neck. The shoulders bunching like a wrecking ball in motion. Fuck me!
“Kai,” I bite out, “shut up and pray.”
“Don’t tell me to pray,” he yells, twisted around in his seat. “God can’t save us now!”
The tires finally bite. The truck jerks, traction catching, and I punch the gas.
We shoot forward just as the bull hits the edge of our light.
There’s a violent scrape along the side of the truck. Horn against metal. A hard jolt that vibrates through the door like a warning punch.
“That—” Kai chokes, eyes huge. “That thing just tried to open my door!”
“I felt it,” I grind out, heart trying to kick through my ribs as I floor it down the road. The truck fishtails once and straightens. “Hold on.”
He’s grabbing the handle above the window like he’s hanging off a cliff. “Carter, I do not want to be taken out by a demonic bastard! Fuck, it looks like one of those territorial Chianina bulls but with a black coat.”
In the mirror, the bull keeps coming for a few terrifying seconds, pounding after us like it can’t believe we’re getting away.
Kai watches it, breath coming fast. “It’s still running. Why is it still running?”
“Because it hates us,” I say flatly.
“This is the universe going, ‘Stop talking about June and drive the damn truck.’ ”
The bull finally drops back, slowing to a heavy trot, then to a furious stop in the field, head high like it’s offended that we didn’t die properly.
Kai stays twisted around, staring until it’s just a shape in the dark.
Then he exhales, long and ragged. “Holy shit.”
“Fuck.”
“That horn was an inch from my door.”
“Don’t talk about inches,” I mutter automatically, still riding the adrenaline.
Kai whips his head toward me. “Not the time.”
I let out a breath that turns into a laugh I didn’t plan on. “Where the hell did that thing come from?”
“I don’t know,” Kai says, still half shouting, “but it had murder in its eyes. That wasn’t a normal bull.”
“Maybe it was trying to tell us something,” I say, hands tight on the wheel.
Kai nods hard. “Yeah. ‘Wrong neighborhood, assholes.’ ”
He laughs, short and shaky, and then it catches in his throat like he can’t decide if he’s going to laugh again or throw up.
“Christ,” he says. “That was the closest I’ve ever come to being gored.”
“We’re adding this to the list of things we never tell anyone,” I say.
“Agreed,” he says immediately. “This goes to the grave. You could torture me, and I’d still deny we got chased by a demon bull.”
We drive in tense silence for a minute.
Then Kai starts laughing again. That slightly hysterical edge that comes from almost dying. It’s contagious.
I try to hold it back, and fail, a bark of laughter tearing out of me as the adrenaline crashes.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” Kai manages between breaths. “We almost got murdered by cattle.”
“That would’ve been an embarrassing obituary,” I say, still laughing.
“The most embarrassing,” Kai agrees. “Taken out by horny driving and satanic livestock.” Kai wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, still grinning like an idiot. “And the last words would’ve been me screaming about June.”
The laughter fades in slow waves, leaving the night quiet again.
We find the right turnoff eventually, and the ranch appears ahead, lit up warmly against the dark Montana sky. But there’s a figure on the porch, Seth, sitting on the steps with a mug in hand, staring at the stars like he’s waiting for them to tell him something useful.
Seth glances up as my headlights sweep the yard, and even from the truck, I catch the smirk forming. We park, climb out, and Kai immediately runs a hand over the passenger door where the horn scraped it, finding only a shallow dent.
“We got off lightly,” he mutters. “Little buff, little polish. Your princess will live.”
I snort a laugh as we head for the house like nothing happened, and Seth watches us cross the drive like he’s been waiting, all quiet patience and judgment. He doesn’t say a word until we’re close enough to smell the coffee in his mug.
“You two look like you’ve been through something.”
“We’re fine,” I say on instinct, because it’s the only answer a man is allowed to give.
Seth’s eyes flick over us, slow and unimpressed. “Uh-huh.” He tips his chin. “How’d the photo booth go?”
Kai drops onto the porch steps beside him with a heavy exhale, elbows on his knees like he’s trying to wring the night out of his bones.
I stay standing, leaning against the railing, one boot hooked on the bottom step, still keyed up from the fair and the drive and the fact that June is now lodged in my chest.
“It went well,” Kai states. “Too well. June got her shots, and she looked…” He trails off, mouth twitching like he hates how much he means it. “She looked fucking incredible.”
“And then we didn’t stop there,” I add, because if I don’t say it out loud, it’ll keep buzzing in my head. “We ended up staying. Games. Rides. That stupid race.”
Kai lets out a short laugh. “Carter bought out half the carnival tickets like he was trying to win the whole fair.”
“Don’t exaggerate.” Yet, I can’t help the grin. “She kept lighting up every time we handed her something. Like it mattered. So yeah. We kept going.”
Seth watches us a second longer, then takes a slow sip of his coffee like he’s savoring this. “You two sound smitten.”
Kai’s head drops back against the porch post. “That’s not a word I’d use.”
Seth’s smirk deepens. “Seems accurate, though.”
I scratch at my jaw, glancing out at the dark pasture like it has answers. “We got close to her. Spent hours with her. And her scent…”
Kai’s posture shifts immediately, all humor fading into something sharper. “It got stronger as the night went on.”
“Much stronger,” I confirm. “Like whatever’s muffling it was slipping.”
Seth’s eyes narrow, that same look he had last night. “I told you.”
Kai nods once, jaw tight. “Yeah. You were right.”
“It’s not just attraction,” I say, because that’s the part that keeps catching in my throat. “It’s… obsessive. Possessive. Like my instincts decided something before I did.”
Kai’s laugh is short and humorless. “No Beta has ever done that to me.”
Seth sets his mug down, the sound soft on the wood. “Because she’s not a Beta.” He looks between us. “I’m sure of it.”
Kai’s gaze cuts to mine, then back to Seth. “We agree.”
“So, what now?” Seth asks, like he’s testing if we’re going to be idiots or men.
Kai spreads his hands. “This means she’s ours. And we need to make it clear.”
Seth’s expression doesn’t change, but his voice drops a notch. “Or she already knows. And she’s scared.”
That lands hard.
I straighten a little, the night air suddenly colder. “So we don’t push her.”
Kai opens his mouth to argue, then closes it. “We don’t push,” he grudgingly agrees, “but we also don’t just sit back.”
“Exactly,” I say, relief and frustration tangled together. “We move smart. We stay close. We give her reasons to trust us as we figure out what she’s hiding without cornering her.”
Seth studies us for a beat, then nods once, slow. “Good.”
Kai blows out a breath. “And if someone made her hide…”
Seth’s eyes go flint-hard. “Then we handle that too.”
I stare out into the dark again, thinking of June’s smile, her laugh, the way she kept one hand on the edge of the world like she might need to bolt.
“We’re not losing her,” I say, more promise than statement.
Kai’s voice comes quiet beside me. “No.”
Seth’s smirk returns, faint and knowing. “Then we treat her like she’s already ours.”