Chapter 53
Eric
Harmony slept tucked against me, soft breaths warming my chest, her leg tangled with mine beneath the blanket.
For a few blissful minutes after she drifted off, the world had felt small and quiet.
Threats felt distant, her body loose and sated in my arms. But peace in this house never seemed to last long. A soft knock sounded at the doorframe.
Becket’s voice dropped low. “Eric. You need to come downstairs.”
My entire body went rigid. Harmony mumbled, half-asleep, reaching for me, even as I slipped out from beneath the covers. I pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “I’m right here. Just checking something with Becket.”
Her fingers loosened reluctantly.
When I stepped into the hallway, Becket’s face told me everything before he spoke.
“What happened?” I asked.
He held up a grainy photograph taken from our exterior trail cam. A figure moved along the tree line, shoulders hunched, head down, but unmistakably watching.
“He was here,” Becket said. “Again.”
My stomach dropped. “When?”
“About an hour ago”
I scrubbed a hand over my jaw.
“Anything useful?” I asked.
“Footprints,” he said. “Circling the orchard. Tight pattern. Someone scouting angles, not wandering.”
I swore under my breath. “He’s measuring blind spots.”
Becket nodded grimly. “Dad and I are going out again once she’s awake.”
“She won’t like knowing he was that close,” I muttered.
“She deserves the truth,” he said.
And I hated how right he was. I crawled back into bed and she instinctively curled her body against mine. Exhaustion sucked me under, even with the threat closing in.
I opened my eyes to see soft light pouring in through the blinds.
Harmony was standing at the window in my sweatshirt, hair falling over one shoulder, looking small against the growing light outside.
The sky was pale and washed-out, the kind of winter morning that erased shadows instead of creating them.
“You found something,” she said quietly.
She hadn’t turned around. She didn’t need to.
“Footprints,” I said, stepping behind her. “Close to the orchard.”
Her shoulders tightened beneath my hands.
“When?” she whispered.
“Last night after you fell asleep.”
She took that in without speaking, jaw working gently as she stared at the frost clinging to the glass. Then she exhaled, long and steady.
“I’m done running from ghosts,” she said.
The words were quiet, but they hit like a declaration.
I got out of bed and walked over to her and curled an arm around her waist, pulling her back against my chest. “You’re not facing them alone.”
She nodded, threading her fingers through mine.
“Then let’s go downstairs.” Her tone was certain and sure.
There was a resolve that wasn’t present before.
Like she was gearing up for battle and maybe she was.
She had spent so many years fighting her family, but she still had fight left in her.
She turned to me and I saw the blaze at the center of her green eyes.
She wasn’t backing down and for that I admired her.
She kissed me with an intensity that sucked my breath, but neither of us could get carried away now with the threats that were looming.
“We should go check in with your brother and father,” she said.
I groaned. “You’re right.”
I slipped on a pair of joggers and a sweatshirt and I took her hand. She gave me the smallest of smiles but it hit me center chest.
Dad already had maps spread across the kitchen table. Becket stood beside him, arms folded, knuckles tight. Harmony slipped her hand into mine like she needed the grounding, and I squeezed gently.
Dad looked up. “Harmony… sweetheart, you should sit.”
She didn’t. “Just tell me.”
Becket pointed at the map. “Whoever’s watching you knows the ridge better than we thought. He stayed downwind. Found elevation. Knew where our cameras are.”
Harmony’s throat bobbed.
I pulled out a chair for her, and this time she sat, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt.
“What does he want?” she whispered.
Silence met her question.
Dad called in the direction of the entryway, “Ash?”
Asher appeared a moment later, barefoot, hair sticking up in every possible direction, wearing plaid pajama pants and the same T-shirt he’d thrown on after dinner last night. Braden’s sticky fingerprints from last night were still faintly on his sleeve.
He paused when he saw all of us gathered around the table.
“Whoa,” he said slowly. “Morning meeting without me? I’m offended.”
Under any other circumstance I might’ve laughed. Today it barely tugged at the edge of my mouth.
“Sit,” Dad said gruffly.
Asher sauntered over, grabbed a banana from the counter, and plopped into the chair beside Harmony. “Okay, what did I miss? And why does everyone look like they swallowed a nail?”
Harmony gave him a thin smile. “Someone was on the property last night.”
Asher froze mid-peel. “What do you mean on the property?”
“Close,” I said. “Near the orchard.”
His eyes flicked instantly to Harmony, protective, alert, cutting through whatever early-morning haze he’d had. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Just… tired.”
Asher exhaled but didn’t look convinced. He nudged the banana toward her. “Eat something. You look like you left your soul somewhere between the shower and the bedroom.”
Harmony huffed a tiny laugh. “Thanks?”
“What?” he said innocently. “Soulless chic is a look.”
That broke the tension enough for Harmony to sit back a little in her chair, fingers relaxing slightly on my shirt.
“So this guy… creep? Ghost? Olympic-level hiker?” Asher asked. “What’s his deal?”
“We don’t know yet,” Becket said. “But he knows what he’s doing.”
“And he knows her,” Dad added, voice firm.
“You have a plan?” Asher asked.
Dad gestured at the map. “We’re tightening security. Becket and I will sweep the ridge again. Eric stays with Harmony at all times.”
Asher nodded once, decisive. “Good. Then he won’t get near her.”
Harmony swallowed, eyes lowering.
Asher leaned forward, softer. “Hey. You’re safe here.”
Her lips parted like she wanted to believe it… or like she was trying to convince herself she could.
Dad turned back to the trail-cam image. “This wasn’t random.”
“It felt like he was testing something,” Becket added. “Checking distance. Movement. Timing.”
Harmony’s breath hitched. I reached for her hand, threading our fingers, grounding her back into the room.
“We’re here,” I murmured. “All of us.”
Harmony leaned into me more fully, exhaustion written in the slope of her shoulders, but determination still burning in her eyes.
“I’m not running,” she said again, firmer this time.
Asher’s gaze sharpened with something like pride. “Damn right you’re not.”
The room fell quiet for a beat, four Thornes and the woman we’d all quietly decided was ours to protect gathered around a table while winter pressed against the windows.
Outside, the world was white and still. Inside, the edges of danger tightened like a noose.
And none of us knew that before the sun set again, the noose would pull.
Hard.