Page 29 of Branded Souls (Ember Hollow Romance #3)

Fox

A ugust had already swept the cabin twice with the detection device, but it wasn’t until the second pass that he found the last one—tucked discreetly behind the smoke detector in the hallway.

“That’s three,” he muttered grimly, holding the small black lens between his fingers. “Someone is definitely obsessed with keeping tabs on her.”

I stared at the camera, rage igniting in my chest. My jaw tightened until my teeth ached, and my fists curled so hard my nails bit into my palms. The idea that someone had been spying on Skye—in her most vulnerable moments—made me sick.

And I hadn’t even noticed.

I dragged in a slow breath through my nose, trying to temper the storm churning inside me. “Call Whize.”

This was becoming more than we should handle alone. It was time to start an official report, and Whize was already familiar with what was going on with Skye.

August didn’t argue. He turned and stepped outside to make the call.

The cabin felt wrong now. Tainted. Like every inch of it had been touched by something foul.

Every shadow seemed to leer. Every wall felt like it had eyes.

I glanced at Skye, standing silent near the kitchen, her arms folded tight across her chest. Her haunted look only deepened the wrongness that clung to the room.

I dropped into my seat at the dining table, yanking my laptop and flipping it open. My fingers moved on instinct, booting up my tools, calling up programs and directories like muscle memory. August came back inside as I was plugging in the micro-SD cards from the cameras.

“He’s on his way,” August said. “Told us not to touch anything else.”

I gave a short nod but didn’t stop working. Absently, I was aware of Skye sitting down at the table beside me. My first instinct was to reach for her, comfort her, but that wouldn’t be most helpful right now. Right now, I needed to focus on figuring out who was behind this.

The files were there—video recordings, timestamps, and upload logs. Whoever set this up knew what they were doing, but not well enough. I’d traced worse.

The footage was being routed through an app-based cloud service, as well as stored locally on the SD card—a setup often used for backup and remote access. Sloppy.

No shell company. No encryption layers. Just an app. Someone got comfortable.

My jaw ticced as I followed the trail by mapping IP addresses, checking metadata, and digging through the access logs tied to the cloud service.

Then, an email popped up.

It was unremarkably simple. I paused, taking some extra time to decide whether I recognized it. I was fairly certain I didn’t .

“What’s that?” Skye’s voice cut in behind me. She’d been quietly watching, sitting near me at the table.

“Email tied to the account,” I explained. “Whoever set up the cameras must’ve registered the cloud feed with it.”

She leaned in. Her brow furrowed. “That looks familiar,” she muttered. She studied the username a bit longer before pulling out her phone. “I think I need to talk to Ash.”

Skye jumped to her feet, her chair almost toppling backward. She paced as she waited for her brother to answer.

“Hey,” she said, voice taut as she turned on the speakerphone. “Does this username sound familiar to you?” She gave the name, and a beat of silence followed.

“I think…” Ash said, his voice loud enough for all of us to hear. “I think that’s Dad’s old email, isn’t it?”

Skye went still. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “That’s what I thought.”

Another pause. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She said it too quickly.

“What’s going on, Skye?”

Skye glanced at me, worried. “I’ll tell you later.”

“I’m coming over,” Ash said with finality.

“No. Don’t. It’s fine—”

“I’ll see you soon.” The line went dead.

Her mouth thinned as she put her phone away.

“That email is associated with your father?” It was August who spoke, breaking the silence.

Skye looked over at him, blinking as if she’d forgotten he was there. “I think so. ”

August and I shared a glance. Skye all but collapsed back down onto the chair, stunned or exhausted—I couldn’t tell which.

“What does this mean?” she asked cautiously, like she didn’t want the answer.

God, I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and assure her that everything would be all right. But I couldn’t. Skye wasn’t mine anymore, no matter how much it had felt like it last night.

Neither of us had said a word about our kiss. But it was there, hanging between us like a spark in a room full of dry kindling.

All morning, I couldn’t stop thinking about the feel of her lips. The way her fingers had curled into my hair. The soft sound she’d made as she kissed me like she had never stopped wanting to.

Maybe it had been desperation.

Or maybe it had been something real.

The thought that it might be the last time I ever got to kiss her hurt more than I was willing to admit.

After all the anger I’d carried, and the walls I’d built to forget her, I still wanted to protect her. I wanted to hold her until she forgot every reason she’d ever had to leave.

It all terrified me.

“I wish it wasn’t the case.” August answered Skye’s question. “We can only assume your father planted the cameras.”

Skye nodded, looking horrified, but managed to sound composed. “How do we find him?”

August scrubbed the back of his neck. “That’s the question now, isn’t it?” He made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “Reid can’t seem to find a whiff of him anywhere. ”

My jaw clenched. Reid couldn’t find him, and I couldn’t get a grip on his digital trail. “We will figure something out, Skye,” I assured her, and myself.

There had to be something we were missing. Something that would lead us right to him.

A knock on the door made us all tense.

“It’s me.” Ash’s voice drifted through, followed by another sharp knock. “Can you let me in?”

Skye rushed toward the door. “You didn’t have to come,” she said, her voice guarded as her brother stepped inside.

“I wanted to.” Ash’s eyes flicked to the table, the laptop and cameras. “What’s going on?”

Reluctantly, Skye explained the situation. His expression matched what I must’ve looked like when I’d seen the first camera. Livid.

He pushed both hands through his straight, dark hair. “What the hell?” he muttered. “What kind of sick fuck puts cameras in his own daughter’s room?”

My stomach turned.

“Maybe the kind that fakes his own disappearance,” August spat.

Ash spun to look at me. “What are you going to do about this?” he demanded.

Heat scorched my veins. “We’ve already contacted the police. A detective should be here soon.”

“Calling the cops? That’s it?” Ash paced, agitation rolling off him in waves. “I wish I would’ve gotten rid of him years ago—for good. I should’ve done something when I had the chance.”

“Ash.” Skye’s voice cracked, sharp with disbelief. “Don’t say things like that. ”

Ash glared at her. “He needs to be dealt with, Skye. He’s done little good in his life. I don’t know why he should get to keep it.”

Neither August nor I rushed to correct him. Not when we understood the rage clawing at him.

August let out a slow breath. “I understand the righteous anger, but we’re obligated to follow the law.”

I nodded stiffly. Charles Adler didn’t deserve to be walking this earth, threatening the people he was supposed to love and protect. But he wasn’t worth the effort of ruining my own life in the process of getting rid of him, if it came to that.

Ash turned to me. “I’m surprised.”

I raised an eyebrow, wary of whatever was coming next.

“The Fox I knew wouldn’t back down from a fight like this.”

The words hit harder than they should have—like a sucker punch right to the ribs.

A strange, charged energy settled over the room.

Skye looked confused, her eyes bouncing between Ash and me.

August shifted like he might cut in, but before he could say anything, another knock thudded against the door.

Three measured raps.

“Detective Whize,” came the voice from outside.

Skye blinked and moved to answer, but I was already on my feet, blood simmering beneath my skin.

The arrival of Whize dissipated some of the tension. We walked the detective through everything—where we’d found the cameras, what we’d traced so far. He took notes, took the devices, and said he’d keep us updated.

As soon as he left, the weight of it all came crashing down .

Skye sat on the couch, foot bouncing as she started to pick at her skin, and then stopped. She’d done so several times today, but always managed to catch herself.

I lowered down next to her. Every part of me wanted to reach for her, to grab her hand, but I didn’t know if she wanted that. I wanted to respect her space because she wasn’t going to like what I said next.

“This place isn’t safe anymore,” I said quietly. “I don’t want you staying here. Not even with me.”

She looked up at me. For once, there was no stubbornness. No fire. There was just exhaustion, and agreement.

“I don’t want to stay here either,” she whispered.

Ash stepped forward. “You can come stay with me. There’s plenty of room at the house.”

Skye’s lips parted, then closed. Pain flickered across her face. “I can’t.”

Ash frowned. “Why not?”

“It’s not you,” she said quickly. “I just…I can’t be in that house.”

He studied her for a beat, then nodded. “I understand.”

I cleared my throat. “You can stay at the bed-and-breakfast. My parents always have a room open.”

“I was trying to avoid that.” She sighed.

“I know.”

She hesitated for a long moment, then gave a slight nod. “Fine.”

Relief surged through me, quick and fierce, but it was tangled up with something else. Frustration. The sheer helplessness of knowing that someone had violated her space, and now she had to leave against her desire .

At least she’d be safe at Mom and Dad’s. Whether she liked being there or not, she’d be protected. I’d make damn sure of it.