Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Keric
Ican’t stop checking the rearview mirror.
My beautiful Anna sleeps in the back seat, wrapped in the blankets Jonus threw together before we left the bus station.
Her face is peaceful now, no longer tight with fear.
Dark hair damp against luminous skin. She looks smaller somehow, vulnerable in a way she never lets herself be when awake.
She’s here and safe. And she took my hand.
The relief is so intense my chest aches.
I drive through the pre-dawn rain, windshield wipers beating a steady rhythm.
Neither of us speak now that Anna is safely asleep.
She passed out faster than I thought possible, letting me know how emotionally and physically exhausted my female is after her trek to the bus station.
The engine hums, rain hits against the exterior of the car and Anna breathes softly from the back.
I can’t believe I found her in time. Another five minutes and that bus would’ve pulled away and then my future bride would’ve disappeared into a network of cities and false identities, and I might’ve lost her.
I’ve known Anna was mine since that moment Garlen lost control and I pulled her back to safety in the school hallway.
The moment I caught her scent every cell in my body lit with recognition and I knew.
But she doesn’t understand that yet. She’s human, with different biology and different instincts.
For her, I’m just the orc who stopped her from running.
For now, that’s enough. I’ll take what she can give.
“So,” Jonus says quietly, eyes on the road. “Your mate, huh?”
I grunt, not denying it.
“When did you know?”
“When Garlen went wild.” I shift in my seat, glancing back at Anna again. Still sleeping. “I caught her scent. Pulled her to safety. And I just... knew.”
Jonus nods slowly. “Been watching her since then?”
“Yes.”
“Waiting for her to feel the same?”
“Yes.” My jaw tightens. “Last night at the wedding was the first time I scented her reciprocal arousal.”
“Heh. Does she know what ‘mate’ means?” he asks. “To orcs?”
I shift uncomfortably. “I told her at the bus station.”
“And?”
“And she asked ‘your what?’ before I could explain properly. I needed to stop her from getting on that bus. Details could wait.”
Jonus snorts. “You’re going to have to tell her everything soon. She needs to understand what she’s agreeing to.”
“I know.” And I do. But the thought of explaining it all, of watching her face when she realizes what being my mate actually means, makes my stomach heavy.
“One crisis at a time. She’ll have questions.
Like why she has to live with me specifically, not just somewhere safe on the commune and I’ll tell her the answer is simple: unmated females don’t live alone.
It’s our custom, our security protocol. She’ll be under my protection as my claimed mate whether she’s ready for that or not.
But the rest? The fact that she’ll never have daughters and be bound to me forever or I will lose my mind? That path is hers to choose.”
“Fair enough.”
I take a turn, heading toward the next highway that will take us to the airport.
“Speaking of crisis. Those photos you found at her apartment,” Jonus questions, “did you find out any more information?” I’d texted him images while racing to the bus station. Needed him to see what we’re dealing with.
“Surveillance photos,” I respond. “Professional quality. Someone’s been watching her for weeks, maybe months. There were pictures of her at the school, with Ellie, at the wedding with me.” My hands clench into fists. “There was a note. ‘We’ve found you, Dr. Lee. You have twenty-four hours.’”
“Dr. Lee?” Jonus frowns. “I thought she was Anna Kim.”
“Anna Kim is one of her aliases. Dr. Anna Lee is who she really is.” I glance back again. She shifts slightly, murmurs something I can’t make out. “She’s been on the run for three years. Hiding on her own.”
Jonus whistles low. “Three years on her own? What the hell is she running from?”
“I don’t know yet, but it got someone killed and now whoever she’s running from found her again and they threatened to harm the people in those photos.” The rage simmers under my skin, controlled but present. “They know about Ellie. About the school. About me.”
“Which is why she ran,” Jonus says. “To protect everyone.”
“Yes. My female was trying to save everyone but herself. Typical.”
“I called Dane and Aldar while you were tracking her down in the bus station,” Jonus says. “They’re busy warning everyone who was there at the wedding and checking who had access to take that photo.”
“Good.”
“Kelt’s been alerted too at the commune. He’s coordinating with security, making sure everything’s locked down before you arrive.”
I nod. Kelt is the best. If anyone can keep Anna safe at the commune, it’s him.
“The plane is chartered and waiting,” Jonus continues. “I’ll stay here in California, coordinate with Garlen and Dane on this end, while you take her to Maine.”
I nod, churning in my mind the idea that this means I will have her with me, in my cabin.
His mouth quirks. “You sure you can handle so much time alone with your unclaimed mate?”
I bare a tusk. “I’ll have to. She’s mine to protect. Even if it means fighting my own instincts every damn day.”
We’re both quiet again. The rain picks up, drumming harder against the roof.
We’re closer to the airport. I check the mirror again and notice that Anna hasn’t moved.
Twelve hours ago, I was at my cousin’s wedding with her and she was looking at me like I mattered and maybe I wasn’t just the scary Irontree everyone avoided.
Now I’m driving through the rain with my unclaimed mate unconscious in the back seat, running from people who want her dead.
I’d watched her leave the reception, wearing my jacket.
Couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d looked at me during dinner.
The scent of her arousal for me was heavy in the air between us.
I waited until she’d been home long enough to settle, then I texted.
And the way she responded hit a chord of unease.
Something was wrong. I couldn’t explain it, just..
. wrong. The instincts that kept me alive in combat, the same one that made me good at security.
It was screaming. I called her. No answer. Texted again. Nothing.
So I called Jonus. “Something’s wrong with Anna,” I’d said. “She wouldn’t just ignore me.”
He’d been skeptical. “Maybe she’s just tired? It’s late.”
“No.” I was already grabbing my keys. “Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”
Jonus knew better than to argue. “Alright. I’ll track her phone. Meet you at your place.”
I drove too fast to her apartment complex in a nice, safe neighborhood. Her door was unlocked when I got there. The lights were left on inside, but there was no sign of Anna. Evidence everywhere of someone packing in a hurry. Closet doors open, dresser drawers pulled out.
And then I saw the photos scattered across her living room floor.
Professional surveillance shots of Anna walking into Black Oak, laughing with Ellie, at the wedding, looking at me with that unguarded expression.
I picked up that last one and stared at her face, at the way she’d looked at me.
And then I saw the note those assholes left for her.
The rage that hit me was volcanic. Someone threatened my mate, had been watching her, stalking her, photographing her. Photographing us.
Jonus arrived, took one look at my face and the photos and said, “We need to find her. Now.”
He tracked her phone to the bus station.
We ran three red lights. I burst through those bus station doors like an orc possessed.
Scanned the crowd, desperate, terrified I was too late.
And there she was, three steps from boarding a bus to Sacramento.
Go-bag over her shoulder, coat soaked from rain, looking small and scared and determined.
I called her name. She turned and stood there, staring at me with those dark eyes full of fear and exhaustion and something that might’ve been relief. I walked straight to her.
Humans moved out of my way automatically. Good. I probably looked feral. I stopped three feet away, close enough to touch but giving her space.
Her voice was so quiet. “How did you find me?” I told her everything and did my best to make sure she was coming with me and not get on that damn bus.
She tried to argue and push me away, told me they’d kill everyone she cared about and I just held out my hand.
“Come with me. Tell me everything. And we’ll figure it out together. ” She took my hand.
Relief had flooded through me so fast I nearly staggered.
Her fingers in mine, warm and small and trusting.
The bus pulled away without her and I didn’t give her a chance to reconsider, just led her out into the rain, to where Jonus waited with the SUV.
She’d looked at me then like she couldn’t quite believe I was real.
Like no one had ever protected her before.
I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving that I’m not going anywhere.
The private airfield emerges from the rain. It’s a small facility with minimal security and perfect for what we need. The plane waits on the tarmac, sleek and expensive. Irontree family resources.
I open Anna’s door carefully. She stirs as I lift her, makes a small sound but doesn’t wake she just settles against my chest, head tucked under my chin. Perfect fit. I trudge through the slushy rain, barely feeling it. She’s warm in my arms, soft, and trusting. My mate, finally where she belongs.
Jonus follows with her go-bag. At the plane steps, he stops and hands over her possessions. “Take care of her,” he grins, punches my shoulder, and walks back to the SUV.
Inside the plane, it’s warm and quiet. Luxury seating, with bed-like chairs in the back cabin. I settle Anna onto one, remove her damp coat and tuck blankets around her. She shifts slightly, murmurs something that sounds like “Keric” but doesn’t wake.
The pilot appears, an older human male who’s flown for us before. Asks no questions, just confirms our flight plan. “Four hours to Maine, sir.”
I nod, take the seat across from Anna. Can’t stop watching her. The rise and fall of her breathing. The way her hand curls near her face. The vulnerability of her sleeping like this, trusting me to keep her safe.
The engines start, that low thrumming vibration. Anna shifts but doesn’t wake. Exhausted from fear and stress and three years of running on her own. Not anymore. She’s done running.
The plane taxis and picks up speed. My hands grip the armrests, not from fear of flying but from everything else. The weight of responsibility. The threat chasing her. The bond between us she doesn’t fully understand yet.
We lift off, nose tilting up, breaking through clouds. Anna sleeps through it all.
I watch dawn break over the horizon through the window.
Pink and gold spills across the sky. It’s a new day and a new beginning for the both of us.
She’s trusted me enough to come and fell asleep feeling safe enough to let go.
But morning will come and she’ll wake up in Maine, reality will hit, and then what?
What if she regrets this decision? She could still decide the mate bond isn’t what she wants, that I’m not what she wants.
The thought is unbearable, but I’ll give her that choice.
Give her space, control, time. Everything I can offer except the option of being unsafe.
That’s non-negotiable. Every orc instinct screams to claim her, mark her, make her officially mine.
The drive to protect is so intense it’s physically painful to resist. But I will resist. For her.
She won’t have a choice about living with me—that’s non-negotiable for her safety.
Commune custom dictates that unmated females stay under a male’s protection, and she’s mine to protect whether she’s ready to accept that or not.
But what happens in that cabin? That’s hers to decide.
I can’t give her the option of being unsafe, but I can give her control over her body, her heart, her future.
She needs to come to me freely, not be pushed by biology or circumstance or my desperation.
Anna shifts in her sleep and her delicate hand reaches out like she’s searching for something.
I move to her side, take her hand in mine.
She settles immediately, sighs, relaxes back into sleep.
I settle back into my seat, still holding her hand across the aisle. Whatever happens when she wakes up, I’ll be ready. She’s going to have questions. She’s going to protest living with me, sharing my space. But her safety isn’t negotiable. Everything else? I’ll give her all the time she needs.
Because losing her isn’t an option.