Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Fern
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve called Roxie.
Ten?
Twenty?
A hundred?
Every time, it goes straight to voicemail.
Every time, the little spike of hope in my chest flickers… then dies.
Jameson has been hovering all day, not smothering, not controlling. Just there. Solid. A steady presence orbiting around me while we wait for news. He keeps making food, placing plates in front of me that neither of us actually touches.
But the effort alone makes my throat tighten.
He’s worried. I can see it in the way his jaw works, the way he keeps checking his phone, the way his hand never strays too far from mine. He tries to hide it, but I know fear when I see it.
I’m wrapped in his arms on the couch when the worst finally happens.
His phone rings.
Jameson stiffens. Just a fraction. But enough for my heart to pound so hard it hurts.
He answers quickly, voice tight. “Yeah?”
Silence.
Then—
“Where?”
More silence. A growl so low I feel it rumble through his chest. Then a clipped, “We’re coming.”
He hangs up slowly.
“Jameson?” My voice is barely a whisper.
He looks at me, and I already know from the shadow in his eyes that this isn’t good news.
“They found Roxie,” he says softly.
Relief blooms, sharp and bright, before fear slams into me like a punch.
“Where?” I ask. “Is she okay? Is she—”
“The cult has her.”
The world tilts.
I suck in a breath so sharp it burns, panic spiking so fast I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t—
Jameson pulls me closer, arms tightening around me like iron. “Fern,” he murmurs, “look at me.”
I do.
His eyes are steady. Fierce. Determined.
“We will get her back.”
There’s no hesitation in his voice. No doubt. Just promise. Strength.
Him.
And I realize something at that moment, something that settles into my bones like truth: I believe him.
Completely.
“I know,” I whisper, surprised by the certainty in my voice. “I know you will.”
His expression softens a little, but the tension in his body stays coiled and ready for war.
I’m not alone anymore, and I know I’ll never be alone again. Jameson is here. He’ll always be here.
“I can’t lose Roxie,” I tell him. “But I can’t lose you either.”
His eyes hold mine as he cups my face in his big hands. “You’ll never lose me. Never.”
“Promise?” I choke out, tears forming in my eyes.
“I promise, mate.”
“I love you,” I whisper.
Jameson’s breath stutters out at my words. “I love you too, mate. More than anything. More than I can put into words.”
I grab the front of his shirt and pull him down for a kiss—urgent, fierce, full of everything I can’t say right now.
A promise of my own. He kisses me back like he already knows.
When we break apart, breathless, he cups my cheek one last time. “Stay here. Stay inside the house. I’ll bring her home.”
I nod, even though every part of me wants to follow him straight into the storm.
He rises, grabs his gear, and heads for the door. Just before he disappears into the night, he glances back at me.
His mate.
His heart.
“Be careful,” I whisper.
He gives me a look that says he will be, because he has something worth coming back to.
Then he leaves to meet his team.
And I sit in the quiet house, knowing that one way or another, everything is about to change.