Chapter 54
Harmony
The rest of the morning moved in a strange kind of quiet.
Not peaceful or restless. Just something in between, like the world was holding its breath with me.
Pierre and Becket left the house to sweep the ridge again.
Eric stayed glued to my side; every movement of his body angled toward mine, like he could absorb danger before it reached me.
But inside me, there was a pulse of dread.
An uncomfortable tug beneath my ribs. The feeling I was being watched, even when no one was there.
It was the kind of dread you inherit from a criminal father who leaves enemies in his wake.
Little did Marcel know; it would be me who broke the last straw that led to his arrest.
“Sunshine,” Eric murmured. “Breathe.”
I listened but the air felt tight. I stepped toward the window overlooking the orchard. Snow had stopped falling, leaving the world white and hushed, branches heavy with ice. Footprints still scarred the outer rows; Becket hadn’t smoothed them yet. Just seeing them made my stomach twist.
“He shouldn’t be able to get this close,” I whispered.
Eric’s hand slid across my lower back. “He won’t again.”
But something in me tugged toward the trees. Like a thread that had been pulled for so many years finally snapping taut.
“I need air,” I murmured.
Eric stiffened instantly. “Harmony—”
“Just the porch,” I promised. “I’m not going far.”
He hesitated… and then nodded. “I’m going with you.”
I stepped outside. The cold hit hard but my lungs opened.
For a moment, I thought maybe that was it.
Maybe it was just the heaviness inside me loosening.
And then I heard it. A sound that didn’t belong to the quiet.
A stumbling step. A low, broken exhale like someone was gasping for air.
I heard the crunch of branches shifting with weight rather than wind.
Eric’s arm snapped in front of me. “Get behind me.”
But my feet had already moved. Because I knew that sound. Knew it in the marrow of me. A figure staggered between the orchard rows. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Snow clung to his clothes, streaked with red across his shirt, his hands. My breath punched out of my chest.
“Olivier?”
He lifted his head.
And the world tilted.
His face was battered with a swollen cheekbone, split brow, blood drying at the corner of his mouth.
His eyes, the same eyes I grew up avoiding, fearing, hoping to please, were glassy, unfocused, filled with something I’d never seen from him before.
Terror. Real terror. He stumbled again, and instinct overrode fear. I ran to him.
“Harmony,” his voice cracked, barely a whisper. “Harm… run.”
I caught his weight as he collapsed to his knees, his hands gripping my arms with desperate, shaking strength.
“He’s using my channels,” Olivier gasped. “Your old, encrypted relays, the ones you masked for Dad. He found them. He’s riding them now. That’s how he sees everything,” he cried. “I tried to keep him away, Harm.”
Eric grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back, but Olivier clung to me harder.
“Don’t touch her!” he choked. “He’ll hear. He’ll know. He’s everywhere,” he muttered, clearly delirious.
My throat closed. “Olivier… who? Who did this to you?”
He shook his head, panic ripping through every word. “Ravenhill isn’t who you think,” he whispered. “He was supposed to scare you, just scare you, but he turned on me he. . .he wants. . .”
His breath hitched, body shuddering. “Please… Harm… I’m your brother. I’m the only one who tried to protect you. I didn’t want. . .” His grip tightened. “I didn’t want you to die.”
Something in me shattered.
The anger I’d held for years. The betrayal. The fear. They all cracked under the sight of him kneeling in the snow, broken, bloody, and begging.
Eric knelt beside me; voice low but steady. “Let me help him.”
But Olivier jerked away from him violently. “No! He’s watching and listening. He’ll kill her. He’ll kill us both.”
His panic spiked so sharply I felt it vibrate through his grip.
“Harmony,” Eric whispered, “step back. Please.”
“I can’t,” I breathed. “He needs help.”
“I need you,” Olivier gasped, pulling me closer with whatever strength he had left. “He’s coming for you. I tried to stop him. I tried to fix it.”
A sob strangled through his chest. And then his eyes rolled back and his body slumped forward into my arms.
“Olivier!” I cried, lowering him into the snow.
Eric pressed two fingers to Olivier’s neck, his voice shifting into that calm, steady firefighter tone I’d only heard once before. “Pulse is thready. He’s losing heat fast. Harmony, keep his head supported.”
Eric continued working without hesitation, checking Olivier’s airway, lifting his chin slightly. “He’s breathing but shallow. We need to get him inside.”
When he spoke again, it wasn’t panic. It was training. I brushed hair from Olivier’s forehead with trembling fingers, a hot rush burning my eyes. Everything felt too fast, too loud. If he’d been hurt . . .If Ravenhill turned on him. . .If my brother really had tried to warn me. . .
“Eric,” I whispered, voice breaking. “He… he’s been trying to protect me this whole time.”
Eric didn’t answer. Not right away. And when he finally did, his voice was careful.
“Harmony… something about this isn’t making sense.” But I couldn’t process his words, not now. Not with Olivier limp in my lap, blood staining the snow around us. For the first time in years, I wasn’t afraid of him. I was afraid for him.
“Help me get him inside,” I whispered.
And we did, Eric was able to lift him. Pierre met us at the doorway, his expression shifting from confusion to horror the second he saw Olivier stretched between us.
“What happened?” he demanded, stepping aside as we dragged Olivier inside and lowered him onto the rug.
“He came out of the orchard,” I whispered. “He could barely stand.”
Becket rushed in from the back hallway, eyes widening. “Is he breathing?”
“Barely,” Eric said. “Dad, grab blankets. Harmony, stay with me. Don’t let his eyes close.”
Olivier shivered violently, his body curling in on itself. I reached instinctively for his hand, but Eric caught my wrist gently and shook his head. “Not yet. We don’t know what’s hurt.”
Becket knelt beside him, scanning bruises, muttering curses under his breath. “This isn’t a simple assault. These patterns show that whoever did this knew what they were doing.”
Olivier groaned, eyelids fluttering. “Don’t… don’t let him in…”
“Who?” Pierre pressed. “Who did this to you?”
Olivier tried to answer, but the words dissolved into guttural sounds. His fingers twitched toward me again, lost and frantic.
“He kept saying Ravenhill,” I whispered.
Silence snapped through the room. Becket sat back on his heels; jaw tight. “Then we have a bigger problem than we thought.”
My stomach dropped. “What does that mean?”
But no one answered fast enough. Eric stood, pulling me to my feet, placing his hands on my arms to steady me.
“Harmony, listen to me. We’re going to figure this out. But right now, you need to breathe.”
I wanted to. I tried to. But fear curled like smoke into my lungs. Olivier was untouchable. He always had a crew of bodyguards around him, Nico was usually one of them.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered. “Why would Ravenhill hurt him? Why would Olivier come to me? Why now?”
Eric’s eyes softened, though something sharper flickered beneath. Something I didn’t recognize.
“I don’t know,” he murmured.
I looked back at Olivier on the floor. He looked so small, helpless, and broken. So unlike the boy who once laughed with me under summer trees, and the man whose anger had chased me for years.
“Becket, should we call 911?” I whispered, panic rising.
Becket already had his radio in hand. “I’m alerting dispatch, but EMS can’t reach the ridge until the plows clear Route 12. Storm conditions have all units delayed.”
Pierre’s voice came sharp and authoritative behind him. “Tell them we’re stabilizing the victim here. SQ can be on standby. We’re handling until the road opens.”
“We need answers before he wakes up,” he said quietly. “If Ravenhill is involved, we’re dealing with something strategic… not impulsive.”
Eric stiffened beside me. Becket’s phone buzzed. He glanced down. His expression darkened.
“What?” Pierre pressed.
Becket lifted the screen so his father could see.
“Trail cam picked up movement at the north fence line,” he said.
My heartbeat stuttered.
“Is it him?” I whispered.
Becket didn’t look away from the feed. “Could be.”
Eric stepped closer to me, shoulders squared, jaw tight. “Harmony stays here. With Asher.”
Asher appeared at the top of the stairs, his hair sticking up like he’d run his hands through it too many times.
“What’s going on?” he asked, voice low.
His eyes landed on Olivier bleeding and unconscious on the rug, and his expression snapped from confusion to something razor-sharp.
“Shit”, Asher muttered.
“Eric?”
“Yeah, Sunshine?”
“Don’t let him take you too. Whatever happens I want you safe,” I urged.
Emotion flashed across his face raw, fierce, and protective. “No one is taking me away from you,” he said like a promise.
“You stay here with Asher. I’ll head out with Dad and Becket to look for the son of a bitch.
” And just like that, he left. Into the cold.
Toward whatever waited at the fence line.
I stood there, frozen. Olivier bleeding behind me.
Eric walking toward danger. And for the first time since childhood, I whispered a prayer I hadn’t said in years.
Please. Please, don’t let me lose them both.