Page 52 of Destined Predator

Casey rubbed the back of his neck, eyes narrowing like he wanted to argue but knew better. “You still got a place here. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise you’ll check in.”

“Yeah.” Emil met his gaze. “I promise.”

They stood there for a long time, neither willing to say goodbye. The wind picked up, bringing the smell of rain. Emil turned toward the barn to grab his duffel, and when he came back, Casey was still there, jaw tight, eyes glinting in the dark.

“Case—”

“Don’t make this sound like it’s forever,” Casey said quietly. “You’re my brother. You’ll always have a home here.”

Emil nodded, throat too thick to speak. He slung the bag over his shoulder and walked to the truck. The door creaked when he opened it, the sound loud in the night.

Casey called after him, “Wherever you end up, don’t let that temper of yours get the better of you.”

“I’ll try,” Emil said, smiling faintly. “No promises.”

Casey shook his head, half-smiling back. “Stubborn bastard.”

“Runs in the family,” Emil said—and then he got in the truck and shut the door before he could lose his nerve.

He didn’t look back right away. The headlights cut through the dark, catching the outline of the ranch house, the porch light glowing like a heartbeat. He sat there with the engine idling, hands tight on the wheel.

The pack was safe. The family was whole. Rhett and Casey were married, Ben and Jack were planning something big in town, and the rest were scattered but happy. They didn’t need him. Not right now.

And maybe, he thought, he needed to stop needing them.

He rolled down the window, letting the wind whip through, heavy with the smell of rain and earth. It hit him how much this place had shaped him. The land. The people. The pack. He’d carry it with him wherever he went, whether he wanted to or not.

He shifted into gear. Gravel crunched under the tires as the truck started down the long drive.

When he reached the end of the road, he stopped again, one hand on the wheel, the other gripping the worn leather seat beside him. Lightning flashed in the distance, white and fierce. He didn’t flinch.

He turned onto the highway, the rain starting to fall, the ranch lights fading behind him until they were just a memory. The road ahead stretched wide and empty, promising nothing but distance—and maybe, finally, the chance to figure out who the hell Emil Akers really was.