Page 43 of Branded Souls (Ember Hollow Romance #3)

Skye

Two months later

Fox and I sat on the front porch swing at the bed-and-breakfast, swaying gently back and forth. He held my hand, his thumb brushing slow, steady circles across the back of it.

The skin around my nails was finally starting to heal. It had been well over a month since I’d consistently picked at them, and for once it didn’t bring me shame to look down at our entwined fingers. I let out a soft sigh, laying my head on Fox’s shoulder.

I had finished the documentary this week—just in time for the holiday season. I was excited for the much-needed break.

The network was pleased with the project so far, and I couldn’t wait for its eventual release. I was proud of the work. I believed it would do justice not only to my little hometown, but also to the Shadow Stalker’s victims .

Emersyn and the Ramseys had been deeply involved in every step of the process, and I could never thank them enough for their involvement. This documentary would have a unique perspective—one that shined a light not only on the serial murderer, but more so on the people he had hurt.

Fox’s knee bounced, making the swing jitter erratically.

“Why are you so fidgety tonight?” I asked.

I’d noticed something off during family dinner, but hadn’t wanted to question him in front of everyone.

Fox stilled, his hand tightening around mine. “It’s nothing.” He glowered.

I pursed my lips, wanting to press him, but not quite ready to burst the fragile bubble of peace around us. It was a chilly autumn evening. Though the sky was dark, the Ramsey house glowed with enough warm light to see everything clearly.

Leaves rustled in the distance, accompanied by the soft sounds of night. The air was crisp and fresh. The spiced candle Raleigh had lit on a small table beside the swing added the perfect touch of fall vibes.

I snuggled closer to Fox, inhaling his clean cedarwood scent. This moment was almost perfect.

Now that I’d finished the documentary, and after a short break for the holidays, I would officially start the process of moving my life back to Ember Hollow.

It would be a jarring transition, but I had no doubt it was the right choice.

The network was willing to let me record my show remotely for the remainder of my contract, and Emersyn had offered to rent me space in her podcast studio .

Once my contract ended, I could decide whether to renew or strike out on my own—maybe even partner with Emersyn to start my own podcast. The idea was tempting.

The front door opened, and Reid stepped outside. His phone was clutched in one hand, jaw working as he stared at the screen.

He glanced at Fox. “They’re almost here,” he said, voice tight.

Fox stiffened. “Are you sure?”

I looked between the two brothers.

Reid nodded. “Pretty sure. They just called me.”

Fox squeezed my hand so tightly it almost hurt.

“What’s going on?” I finally cut in.

Reid shoved his phone into his back pocket and moved toward the porch steps. He scanned the small parking area beside the bed-and-breakfast, then looked up and down the street.

“You’re certain they’re coming?” Fox pressed.

Reid nodded again, then his gaze rested on mine. “I’m really sorry about this, Skye. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen.”

My stomach dropped, heart hammering. I shot a wide-eyed look toward Fox. “What is he talking about?”

Fox grimaced.

Then, a flash of headlights pulled his attention to the street. His body tensed even more as a black sedan rolled up, parking along the curb in front of the house.

Reid threw Fox one last concerned look before heading down the steps toward the vehicle.

I frowned as the driver’s side door opened and a tall man stepped out. Reid met him at his vehicle, worry etched on his face. They spoke briefly in the glow of the outside lights. The man was older, his dark hair streaked with silver, and he had a bushy beard to match.

The man glanced at me once before turning back to Reid, giving a short nod, and climbing back into the sedan.

Reid returned quickly, taking the steps two at a time.

“One of you better tell me what the hell is going on right now,” I demanded, looking between them.

They were obviously hiding something, and it was taking all my will power to remain calm on this porch swing. The once perfect, peaceful night had grown tense.

Reid sighed. “This wasn’t supposed to happen today. They weren’t supposed to show up here—but it seems that woman listens about as well as you do.”

“Explain,” I muttered through clenched teeth.

They exchanged another look, which was infuriating.

Fox lifted my hand and pressed it to his chest, like he was trying to anchor me. The gesture only made me more nervous. My pulse rushed in my ears.

“Reid never stopped looking for your mother,” Fox said slowly, cautiously, like he was treading on thin ice.

I blinked at him. That didn’t make sense. “Ash said she was dead.”

“I know.” Reid nodded. “I was hoping to find her body…so you could bury her.”

A spike of adrenaline shot through me. “Did you?”

“Not exactly.” Reid shook his head. “I’ve been working on this for months—trying to figure out what might have happened to her that day. I never found any unidentified bodies that matched, and since she wasn’t Jane Doe—I widened my search. ”

Reid took a deep breath. “It wasn’t until I started looking over state lines that I found something.”

I started to feel dizzy. “What did you find?” I asked softly, leaning toward him.

Fox pressed my palm harder against his chest. His heart pounded erratically beneath my hand.

“Right around the time your mother would have left,” Reid continued, “there was a woman found in West Virginia. She’d been brutally attacked and dumped in a forested area along a creek. Although her injuries were significant, she survived.”

All the air left my lungs.

“She had severe trauma to her head,” Reid murmured, and he cleared his throat.

His eyes flicked to the idling sedan before returning to me.

“She was found with no identification. When she woke from an induced coma, she made a near full recovery physically—but didn’t remember who she was or anything about her life before. ”

I shook my head. This couldn’t be right. I had to be hallucinating.

“My father killed my mother,” I said, repeating the information that Ash had told me. “My brother said—” I couldn’t even finish.

“We think that he truly thought he had killed her.” Reid crossed his arms over his chest, looking like he stifled a shiver. “With everything she went through, she should have died. But…she didn’t.”

I put a hand, like putting up a barrier would make the information less overwhelming. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“Skye,” Fox said quietly, like he was trying to soothe a small child, “we’re pretty sure we found your mom—and she’ s still alive.”

The words felt like too much. A hope built in my chest, but I was so afraid to acknowledge it. I glanced at the parked sedan. Something pulled me toward it, a yearning ache that I couldn’t explain.

I rose to my feet without thinking, my eyes locked on the car idling at the curb.

Fox stood with me. His hand was warm and steady, though mine trembled.

I didn’t know if someone gave a cue, but at that moment, the passenger-side door opened.

A woman stepped out.

My lungs seized as that hope in my chest swelled. She had long, dark hair that spilled down her shoulders, a single streak of silver cutting through at the front. Even from here, I could see a gnarly scar running from her left temple up into her hairline.

Her eyes, so much like mine, locked onto me. Her chest heaved with rapid breaths as she started toward me.

My knees went weak, and I clung to Fox’s strength to stay upright.

The man who had driven her lingered by the car, but he barely registered in my brain.

All I saw was her.

Her face was so achingly familiar it hurt, but I still wanted to curb the hope making my heart burst. Part of me believed that this couldn’t be real. I had to be dreaming.

And then I would wake up absolutely crushed.

She stepped onto the porch, the boards creaking under her weight.

She stared at me a moment longer, gaze shifting around my face, like she was looking for some kind of confirmation.

“Mom?” I spoke before thinking, my voice a strangled, shocked cry .

The woman blinked, and then her eyes widened—shock and recognition lighting up her face.

“Oh, my God,” she said softly in a voice I recognized. “ Skye .”

When she said my name, I knew it was her; there was no doubt. I had heard her say it countless times.

Had I ever heard her voice that clearly in my dreams?

She started shaking then, too. Her stare darted to Reid, who I’d forgotten was standing off to the side. “You were right,” she breathed, in total disbelief. “I know her.”

When she looked back at me, tears glistened in her eyes.

“I wasn’t sure this was real.” She swallowed hard. “I needed to come see myself.”

Then, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small item. Something silver glinted in the porch lights.

A bracelet.

My bracelet.

The threads were tattered and frayed, like it had been worn and repaired countless times. A charm dangled from the braided band—the silver sparrow with its bent wing.

I let out a choked gasp.

“This was all I had with me when I was found,” she said, almost reverently, holding it out to me.

I reached for it with an unsteady hand. She pressed it into my palm.

“It’s my most prized possession.” A single tear streaked down her cheek. “If I would’ve known, I would’ve done anything to get back to you. ”

I muffled sob and leaned harder into Fox. The sparrow charm dug into my clenched fist; the metal biting into my skin like proof this wasn’t a dream.

She reached up, touching the scar on her temple. “I might have forgotten you here—” Her voice wavered as she dropped that hand, moving it over her heart. “But I never forgot you here.”

For a moment, neither of us moved. Then I stepped forward—one shaky step. I was close enough to see the faint tremor in her smile.

Her arms opened, tentative at first. Waiting to welcome me.

I fell into her, hugging her tight like I’d been waiting my whole life for this.

The second she held me, something inside me broke open. I buried my face against her shoulder, inhaling the scent of rain and something faintly floral. Her embrace was steady and real.

My mother.

Alive .

For two months, I had mourned her—grieved, finally, after all these years.

I’d pictured her lying cold in an unmarked grave, lost to me forever. And now…she was warm in my arms.

When I finally pulled back, my cheeks were wet. Her hands lingered on my face, like she was memorizing every inch. I clutched the bracelet to my chest. “I thought I’d never see you again,” I whispered.

Her smile wobbled. “You will. As often as you’d like from now on.”

A warm, steady hand settled at the small of my back. I turned, and Fox was there—his gaze fixed on me, soft and certain. Without a word, he pulled me against him, tucking me safely into his side while still keeping me close to her. My mother .

Two arms. Two anchors.

And for the first time in a long time, I believed I might never have to face this world alone again.

Thank you so much for reading!