6. Chapter 6
Declan stopped between their cabins. Sage slept.
Three hours past midnight. The compound silent except for the wind. The patrol had checked in twice since sunset. No threats, no movement along the borders.
Everything secure. Except the thing neither of them had named yet.
She’d fallen asleep at his desk again. Surrounded by papers and photographs and evidence she thought would condemn him. Her laptop screen had gone dark an hour ago, but she hadn’t stirred, just slumped forward with her head on her folded arms, one hand still clutching a pen.
He should wake her. Send her to the bed in the other room where she belonged. Maintain the distance that kept them both safe.
Instead he crossed the space and crouched beside the chair.
She hit him first. Always did. Something clean and sharp that made him press hard against his own control every time she moved. He’d gotten better at hiding it, better at keeping his face neutral when she brushed past him or leaned too close over some piece of evidence.
But alone in the dark with nothing but silence and her steady breathing, he couldn’t pretend.
The mate bond wasn’t fading. It lived beneath his skin like a second heartbeat, deepening every hour they spent together.
He was quickly lost. Had been since she stepped out of the dark and asked him why he hadn’t defended his territory, like she already knew the answer and wanted to hear him admit it.
She thought he was holding himself apart. Maintaining distance because he didn’t feel the bond or didn’t want her.
She had no idea how close he was to breaking.
His hand moved before he could stop it. Reached for the blanket draped over the back of the couch. He shook it out quietly and settled it around her with careful hands, tucking the edges so the draft wouldn’t reach her.
His fingers grazed her arm. Just a whisper of contact through the fabric of her shirt.
The need that surged through him was so fierce it stole his breath.
Mine. Protect. Claim.
He pulled back fast. Put space between himself and her, fighting for distance.
This was why he couldn’t touch her. One moment of contact and everything in him wanted to mark her, bind her, make sure every wolf in Montana knew she belonged to Blackridge. Belonged to him.
But she didn’t belong to him. Wouldn’t want to, even if she felt the pull the way he did. She was here hunting a killer, and he was letting her do it because she deserved the truth.
Even if that truth destroyed him.
The radio on his belt crackled soft. One of the eastern-border units, checking in two minutes ahead of schedule. “Perimeter check complete. All clear. Movement on the logging road earlier, tire tracks, human, left the area before we reached it.”
He lifted the radio without taking his eyes off Sage. “Copy. Log it and maintain position.”
“You should get some sleep, Dec.”
Jace’s voice, cutting through on the secondary channel. Quiet, but not without weight.
“I’m fine.”
“That’s what you said yesterday. And the day before.” A pause. “She’s safe inside the compound. You don’t have to watch her every minute.”
“Yes, I do.”
“The bond’s not going away.”
“I know.”
“Fighting it just makes it worse.”
“I know that too.”
The radio went quiet for a stretch. Then Jace exhaled. “I need you sharp tomorrow. Get some rest. That’s an order.”
“Understood.”
He pocketed the radio. Stayed where he was for one more breath. Then he stripped down and shifted, the change flowing through him smooth and certain. He needed to run. Needed the clarity of four legs and predator senses. He'd be at the cabin in minutes.
Then he made himself step back from the doorway.
The laptop screen had gone dark, but he’d caught a glimpse before it did. Two photographs side by side. One from her surveillance files. One he recognized as a traffic camera still.
The face from the traffic camera.
His chest went tight in a way unconnected to the bond. Not because the face meant anything. Because it didn’t, and he couldn’t tell her why he was so sure. She’d run it to ground either way. Better she did it with the pack behind her than alone in the dark.
He needed Jace to open those records.
He stepped back to the connecting door, phone already in hand. He typed the request fast, three sentences. Alpha approval needed. The face she’d flagged near the lodge. Everything we can pull on him.
Jace’s response came sixty seconds later. On it.
Declan pocketed the phone. Sage hadn’t moved. The blanket tucked close, the pen still loosely held in her hand.
He’d been watching her sleep like a man with no other options. Now he had one. It wasn’t enough, but it was a start.
He went to his cabin and sat at the table with his hands braced on the wood, waiting for dawn.