Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chloe
A s Kyle drives us up from the docks, the Homestead comes into view, the bright light spilling from the windows breaking up the darkness of night.
I didn’t realize we’d be gone so long when we left this morning, or how much would happen once we stepped off the island.
I shiver, the encounter with Louie replaying in my mind, the scent of almonds and anise still lingering in my nostrils.
“You okay, Chloe?” Blake’s deep rumble comes from beside me, concern etched on his rugged features.
I force a smile. “Just a little shaken up.”
Nathaniel twists to face us from the front seat. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”
Their words should comfort me, but the knot in my stomach only tightens. What if Louie comes after them because of me? My hand lifts to my collar, missing my lucky shamrock necklace and the reassurance it offered. Nothing has gone right since I lost it.
“Home sweet home,” Kyle announces as he pulls up to the front porch.
“Thanks for the ride back.” Nathaniel claps him on the shoulder. “I’d say start work late tomorrow, but I know you’ll be up before dawn for fishing.”
“The sea is a demanding mistress.” Kyle hooks a thumb toward the back of the cart. “Need help bringing everything into the cabin?”
“No, we got it from here.” Blake hops out of his side. “Get some rest.”
Blake unloads my heavy suitcase and tosses me the pillow. Nathaniel takes the heavy shopping bags Kyle had added to our load. As we step up to the porch, Kyle beeps the horn on the cart and zips back down the path toward his cabin by the water.
When we step into the cabin, the warm scent of vanilla cake envelops us. Holden emerges from the kitchen, his golden-brown curls disheveled and a streak of flour on his cheek. Despite the late hour, he’s been stress-baking again.
He wrings a dish towel between his hands. “Welcome home. Quinn’s already asleep, and Dominic is doing the dishes.”
“Thanks for holding down the fort. Sorry we didn’t get back in time for dinner.” Nathaniel sets the bags on the dining table and peeks inside. “Security cameras? I thought we were going to have a company set up our system.”
“I saw someone earlier.” Holden’s eyes dart to the French doors that lead out to the porch. “A figure on the path outside the kitchen. Fresh footprints leading toward the Phase Two site.”
A chill runs down my spine. I had begun to believe the person I saw outside my suite was a figment of my imagination. But if Holden also saw someone…
“Are you sure it wasn’t one of the construction staff?” Nathaniel asks.
Holden shakes his head. “I called Emily to verify. She did a headcount, and everyone was accounted for.”
Blake’s jaw tightens, his long hair falling loose from its bun as he runs a hand through it. “This isn’t good. We need to be on high alert.”
While they discuss potential security measures, guilt washes over me. I’ve brought this danger to their doorstep, to this pack that’s shown me nothing but kindness. I bow my head, my pink hair falling forward to screen my face and hide the tears threatening to spill.
A gentle hand on my shoulder startles me, and my head lifts to meet Nathaniel’s dark brown eyes. “We’re in this together. Don’t blame yourself.”
I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
Blake studies the darkness just outside the spill of light cast by the Homestead. “It’s too dark to install the temporary cameras tonight.”
My heart sinks, and I wrap my arms around myself, wishing I was wearing one of my comforting onesies to hide in. “So we’re completely vulnerable?”
“Not completely, but we’re exposed.” Blake runs a hand through his loose hair, his muscular arms flexing with the movement. “We need to take immediate action.”
He paces, his long legs taking him across the room and back. “I propose we rotate a night patrol. At least until we can get those cameras up and running.”
“Agreed.” Nathaniel’s finger traces the silver ring on his right hand. “We can’t afford to take any chances. Blake, you should camp out with Quinn tonight.”
Blake nods in agreement. “Sprinkles can sleep in there, too.”
Holden steps forward. “I can take the first shift. Not like I’ll be sleeping anytime soon.”
As they discuss the logistics, my guilt grows heavier, settling in my chest like a lead weight. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t come here?—”
Blake steps to my side in an instant, his large hand engulfing mine. “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence. You’re pack now, and we protect our own.”
The reminder that we’re officially courting, that we’ll form a bond when my Heat comes, spreads warmth through me. I’m so lucky to have found these Alphas, and I won’t let anything bad happen to them.
“Come on.” Blake grabs the handle of my suitcase. “Let’s bring your stuff upstairs while they figure out a schedule for tonight.”
Blake’s hand settles warmly on my back as he guides me up the stairs, my suitcase rolling behind us. The knotted wooden banister slides beneath my hand, the wood warm.
Everything about this cabin was designed to feel like it has existed for generations, a home to welcome guests. But despite the cozy atmosphere, I can’t shake the unease clinging to me.
We reach the second floor, and Blake leads me into the family quarters and to my room.
He sets my suitcase beside the bed before turning to face me, his golden-brown eyes searching mine. “Are you going to be all right?”
I bite my lip, looking away as the sting of tears threatens again. “I just… seeing Louie again…” My throat tightens with emotion. “It brought back so many memories. The anger, the fear, the helplessness. And now, someone on the island…”
A tear escapes, trailing down my cheek, and Blake reaches out to wipe it away with his thumb. “I can’t imagine what you went through with him, but you’re safe now. I won’t let him hurt you again.”
“I know.” I lean into his touch, the smoked applewood and cider of his pheromones offering comfort. “It’s just hard not to think that I’m putting everyone in danger by being here.”
“You’re not.” He cups my cheek. “We’re in this together, sweetheart.”
Nodding, I lean into his chest, and his arms come around my body, holding me close as the dam inside me breaks. My tears soak into his shirt, and he holds me through it all, his strong arms anchoring me as I fall apart, and I realize how much I need him. How much I need all of them.
Blake’s warmth soothes me, his pheromones enveloping my senses. Slowly, my tears subside and my breathing evens out.
I pull back to look up at him through damp lashes. “Thank you. I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”
Blake tucks a strand of pink hair behind my ear, his fingertips grazing my cheek. “Anytime, sweetheart. That’s what I’m here for.”
His words wrap around me like a soft blanket, and I lean into his touch.
An electric charge buzzes in the air between us, desire simmering beneath the surface. I’m hyper-aware of how close we stand, of the way his body heat seeps into mine.
As much as I long to lose myself in his embrace, to forget the dangers lurking outside these walls, the others are expecting him back downstairs.
Blake senses my hesitation and steps back, his hand falling from my face. “I’ll let you get settled. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right here.”
“Thank you.” I manage a weak smile. “For everything.”
His eyes soften. “If you need anything, even just company while you work, I’m here. We all are.”
With a quick brush of lips across my forehead, he turns and leaves, closing the door behind him. And leaving me alone with my thoughts, my fears, and the lingering warmth of his touch on my skin.
To distract myself, I haul my suitcase into the small walk-in closet. I take a deep breath, then use the methodical transfer of clothes from my suitcase to the dresser drawers to center myself. The familiar routine soothes my frazzled nerves, but it can’t dispel the unease that coils in my gut.
My mind drifts to the email I need to send, the counteroffer Dominic helped me draft for my new trilogy. Even after I took my pleasure and ran away, he worked on the contract and left my laptop outside of my room for me to find the next morning. It’s a lifeline, a chance to contribute to my place in the pack.
As I stow an oversized sweatshirt in the dresser, my hand drifts to the onesie folded up beside it. I resist the urge to put it on, though. I refuse to let this unknown stalker on the island ruin the safety I’ve found here.
Closing the drawer, I go to the small desk placed in front of a window overlooking the woods at the back of the Homestead. Unease trickles through me as my creative brain whispers that anyone could be watching from the tree lines, and I pull the curtain closed.
I lean to the side, inhaling the fragrant scent of the flowers on my desk, then boot up my laptop. The glow of the screen casts a pale-blue light across the desk, but as I stare at the blank email template, the words I need to write evade me.
How can I think about my career, my dreams, when everything else feels so unsteady? When the people I care about are in danger because of me?
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them back. I can’t fall apart, not now. I have to be strong, for myself and my pack.
I pull my shoulders back, determined to finish this, and then work on the trilogy outline I had started. Right now, it’s a jumble of scenes I’d like to write and ideas for conflict, but I need to organize it into some semblance of a story structure.
I draft a response to my publishers, attach the counteroffer Dominic put together, and hit send before I second-guess myself again.
Then I open my dump file, make a copy, and get to work, my fingers flying over the keys, the clicking sound grounding me.
Hours slip by as I pour myself into the outline, weaving adventure through the love story. Only when my vision blurs do I resurface, blinking owlishly.
I check the time and am shocked to see how late it’s gotten. Silence fills the house around me, no doubt the pack having long since retired for the night.
Saving my work, I stretch, my muscles protesting after so long in one position.
A loud grumble from my stomach announces a demand for food, and I rise from my desk to go hunt down a snack. I’m one of those people who can’t sleep while hungry. Thoughts of all the foods I could be eating will just keep me awake.
The house is dark and quiet as I pad down the hallway, and I pause at the top of the stairs, my hand resting on the banister. The dim moonlight filtering through the windows casts eerie shadows across the walls, and I shiver. Prickles raise the fine hairs on my arms, an itch I can’t scratch, a whisper in the back of my mind that something is wrong.
I chew on my lip, the flavor of my strawberry lip gloss sweet on my tongue. The earlier encounter with Louie left me rattled, old fears and insecurities rising to the surface.
With a deep breath, I start down the stairs, focusing on taking one step at a time.
At the bottom of the stairs, I rush through the dining room and into the kitchen. I’ll just grab a little snack and then scurry back to the safety of my room.
Evidence of Holden’s baking spree fills the kitchen island, giving me ample options. I grab a basket and load it up with scones and muffins, drooling over all the yummy treats.
Outside the kitchen, a board creaks, and I freeze, my ears pricked.
Another creak sounds, and I snatch up the heavy marble rolling pin sitting next to a canister of flour.
Heart pounding, I grip the wooden handle tighter, my palms slick with sweat as I inch toward the door. The hum of the refrigerator fills my ears, along with the distant chirp of crickets outside and the ragged sound of my breathing.
As I near the door, it swings inward, and I react on pure instinct. With a cry that’s half battle scream, half terrified yelp, I swing the rolling pin with all my might.
Before it connects, a hand catches my wrist in an iron grip, yanking me forward and pinning my arm behind my back. The rolling pin clatters to the floor as I collide with a solid chest, the musky scent of citrus filling my nose.
“Chloe? What the hell?” Dominic’s deep voice rumbles through me in a mixture of concern and exasperation.
I sag within his grasp, relief and embarrassment flooding through me in equal measure. “I thought… I heard a noise.” My cheeks burn. “I thought it might be the intruder.”
Dominic’s hold on me softens, but he doesn’t let go, his breath a warm caress at my ear. “It’s only me. I was checking the perimeter.”
My heart keeps racing, but for a different reason now. Being this close to Dominic, feeling the strength of his body, does things to my body that I don’t want to acknowledge.
I try to step away, but his arm tightens around my waist, keeping me close.
“Dominic,” I whisper, hating the way I tremble. “Let me go.”
He remains silent for a long moment, tension in his muscles. “Are you planning to ignore what happened between us forever?”
My face grows hotter as the memory of his mouth on me floods my body with desire.
He groans as my pheromones fill the air. “You want me.”
“Shut up.” I turn my face away. “And let me go.”
Dominic releases me, his fingertips trailing electric shocks along my arms as he steps back. The sudden absence of his touch leaves me bereft, and I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold on to the warmth of his embrace.
“You need to be more careful,” he says gruffly. “At least until we set up the security system.”
“Sorry.” I hug my elbows. “I was just coming down for a snack before heading to bed.”
Dominic spots the loaded basket on the counter and strides to it, picking up the rolling pin on the way. He sets it on the counter and returns with the treats. “You really are a little mouse sneaking sweets.”
A laugh escapes at the reminder of when Blake caught me trying to sneak pie before dinner. “I love anything with sugar.”
“And I love you.” He holds the basket out to me. “But you already know that.”
My chest aches at the words, and my body burns. If I asked him to, he’d drop to his knees right now and show me just how much he loves me. And part of me yearns to do just that. To take what he offers and give nothing in return. To hurt him for the pain he caused me all those years ago.
But I don’t want to further the pain between us. I just don’t know how to heal it, either.
My hands shake as I take the basket from him, our fingers brushing and setting off sparks.
Clutching it to my chest, I back out of the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind me.