Page 16 of Flint’s Fate (Silver Falls Shifters #3)

CHAPTER 15

JENNA

J enna stormed into the farmhouse, barely restraining the urge to slam the door behind her. Flint followed, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor. The sound was a warning, the same way his presence was—heated, close, overpowering. He was right on her heels, his energy crackling against her back like an impending storm.

“Do you have some kind of death wish?” Flint’s voice cut through the silence.

She rolled her shoulders, but didn’t turn to face him. Not yet. She needed a second to breathe, to collect herself before she said something she couldn’t take back.

“Nothing to say?” he pressed. “That’s a damn first.”

Jenna spun, planting her feet. “What exactly do you want me to say?”

Flint stood toe-to-toe with her now, his arms crossed over his chest, biceps flexed beneath the snug fabric of his shirt. “You almost got yourself ripped apart by Ghost Walkers. You know what that makes you? Reckless.”

Her fingers twitched. “I handled myself just fine.”

“No, you got lucky,” he snapped, his voice lowering. “And if you’re not careful, that luck is going to run out.”

Jenna arched an eyebrow, fighting the pull of his dominance. “You’re the one who wanted to break into the mayor’s office. I don’t need you playing overprotective alpha with me. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”

His jaw ticked. “That’s not the point.”

“It’s exactly the point.” She stepped closer, invading his space the way he so often did to her. “You think because we’ve had sex and seem to share some kind of connection, that you get to make decisions for me? That doesn’t work for me. I decide what I do. I decide what risks I take.”

He breathed hard through his nose, his frustration rolling off him in waves. “You’re not the only one in this, Jenna. That fight isn’t just yours alone.”

“She was my aunt…”

“Who you hadn’t seen in years, and she was my friend. I was with her when she died.”

Her heart knocked against her ribs, but she ignored it. Ignored the warmth of his body so close to hers, ignored the sharp, masculine scent of him wrapping around her senses.

“I never asked for your help.”

“You don’t need to ask, it’s yours by right,” he ground out.

“What right?” she challenged.

“By right of being my fated mate.”

Jenna felt something tighten in her gut. He wasn’t wrong, and she knew it, but that didn’t mean she was going to admit it.

The door creaked open, breaking the moment. Wes strolled in with Ember and Ridge on his heels. Sybil entered last, scanning the room like she could still feel the anger lingering in the air.

“Well, if y’all are done measuring whose claws are bigger, maybe we can get to the part where we figure out how to keep Jenna from ending up in a shallow grave,” Wes drawled, dropping into a chair.

Jenna took a deep breath and forced her focus back to the bigger picture. She perched on the arm of the couch, arms folded, back straight. “McVey and Calloway are working together, but they aren’t just after the land. They need me to access whatever it is that’s buried underneath.”

Ridge frowned. “You mean that chamber you found?”

“Exactly,” Sybil chimed in, flipping open a notebook. “Maribel wasn’t just holding onto Cold Creek because it was family land. She was protecting something. Something ancient.”

Ember crossed her arms, her sharp blue eyes narrowing. “And McVey and Calloway think Jenna is the key?”

Jenna nodded. “Their emails made that clear. I’m the last of the bloodline tied to the orchard. Whatever’s buried under that chamber is tied to me, and if they can’t get me to open it, they’ll take the land by force and figure out another way.”

Ridge ran a hand down his face. “Shit.”

“That’s not even the worst of it.” Sybil leaned forward, pushing her glasses higher on her nose. “The Calloways were never the rightful guardians of that chamber. The Ghost Walkers were.”

Flint’s brow furrowed. “How did they lose control of it?”

Sybil nodded. “Centuries ago, Calloway’s ancestors betrayed them. They stole whatever was down there and used it for themselves. But they never fully unlocked it. They couldn’t.” Her gaze darted to Jenna. “Because it wasn’t meant for them. It was meant for someone of your bloodline.”

The room fell silent. Jenna’s stomach twisted. The way the runes had responded to her, the way the chamber had called to her—it all made sense now.

“And the Ghost Walkers want it back,” Ember murmured.

Sybil nodded. “They don’t just want it. They need it. And if we get in their way, they won’t hesitate to take us out.”

Flint pushed off the wall, his gaze locked onto Jenna. “Which means we have to stop playing defense. We hit first.”

Wes grinned. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

Jenna shook her head. “We need more than just brute force. We need leverage.”

Sybil tapped her notebook. “Calloway’s legal claims are flimsy at best. If we can discredit him before he moves, we might be able to stall.”

Ember leaned against the table. “And McVey?”

“I’m going to make him regret ever setting foot in Silver Falls,” said Jenna in a voice that held grim determination.

Flint’s eyes darkened, something unreadable flashing behind them.

Ridge sighed. “This is going to get bloody.”

Jenna met Flint’s gaze, unflinchingly. “Then we make sure we don’t lose.”

The challenge hung between them, the same unspoken electricity that had been there from the beginning.

Flint’s expression hardened, his voice dropping to something low and dangerous. “We won’t.”

And this time, Jenna almost believed him.

Jenna had just finished pouring herself a cup of coffee when the front door rattled under a heavy fist. Everyone in the farmhouse turned toward the noise.

“Who the hell…” Wes started, but Jenna was already moving.

Flint was faster. He strode past her and yanked the door open. A uniformed man stood on the porch, a clipboard clutched in one hand, the other resting nervously at his side. The instant Jenna recognized the Silver Falls town seal on the document, she knew exactly what this was.

The messenger cleared his throat. “Miss Hartford?”

Jenna took the paper before he could finish. Flint moved closer, a looming presence at her side.

“You’ve been served,” the man said, though he looked like he regretted every second of it. Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and hurried back to his truck.

Jenna scanned the document, reading each word carefully.

“Calloway’s pulling eminent domain,” she muttered.

Silence.

Flint took the paper from her, his jaw set tight as his gaze flicked over the legal jargon.

“What’s the justification?” Sybil asked, moving in to read over his shoulder.

Jenna folded her arms. “Historical preservation. They’re claiming the orchard needs to be protected due to ‘significant cultural importance’ to the town.”

Ridge let out a sharp laugh. “Bullshit. If Calloway gave a damn about history, he wouldn’t have spent the last decade trying to knock down every original building in Silver Falls.”

Flint’s fingers tightened around the paper. “If you fight this in court, it’ll take months. Maybe years.”

“That’s the point,” Jenna said. “They want me tangled in legal battles, draining my time and resources. And if that doesn’t work, they’ll escalate.”

Flint didn’t argue. He knew it as well as she did.

“So what’s the play?” Wes asked.

Jenna set her mug down with a deliberate click. “We don’t let them make the next move. We make it first.”

Flint’s gaze snapped to her. “What does that mean?”

She met his eyes head-on. “It means we go after McVey now. We go to McVey’s estate…”

“No.” The word was hard, immediate.

“Excuse me?” Jenna asked, turning to look at Flint with feigned innocence.

Flint stepped closer, towering over her, but she refused to back down. “Breaking into McVey’s estate is a suicide mission.”

“It’s not breaking in if I have an invitation,” she countered.

Silence stretched.

“Jenna,” Sybil warned.

Jenna grabbed her phone and held it up. “McVey wants to meet. Tomorrow night. Private dinner at his estate.”

Flint’s expression darkened. “And you were planning to mention this when?”

“I just did.”

His hands fisted at his sides. “That bastard is baiting you.”

“Of course he is.” Jenna tilted her chin up. “Which is why I’m going.”

Flint stepped closer, voice dropping to a growl. “No, you’re not.”

Jenna’s lips curled into something close to a smile. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Flint.”

Frustration radiated off him in waves. “If you walk into McVey’s house alone, you might not walk out.”

“Then I won’t be alone.”

Wes cleared his throat. “I’m just gonna throw it out there—this plan sounds stupid as hell.”

Ember leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “She’s not wrong, though. If we wait, we lose the advantage.”

Flint’s glare was lethal. “You’re not helping.”

Jenna grabbed the eviction notice and folded it neatly. “McVey is the key. Calloway’s a puppet, but McVey? He’s the one with all the money and pulling the strings.”

Flint braced his hands on his hips, staring her down. “You don’t have to do this.”

Jenna stepped in, close enough to feel the heat rolling off him. “Yes, I do.”

Their eyes locked, neither willing to back down.

Finally, Flint swore under his breath. “Fine. But if you think I’m letting you go in there without backup, you’re out of your damn mind.”

Jenna’s lips parted, but before she could argue, Flint was already moving, issuing orders.

“Wes, get me everything we have on McVey’s security. Ridge, I need blueprints of that estate. Sybil, dig into McVey’s connections. If there’s anyone inside we can use, I want to know.”

Jenna stared at him. “You’re planning an infiltration.”

Flint met her gaze, steady, determined. “We’re planning an infiltration. Because if you’re walking into the coyote’s den, Jenna...” He reached out, brushing his fingers along the inside of her wrist. The touch was fleeting, but it sent something electric skittering through her veins. “Then I’m walking in with you.”

Her breath caught for half a second before she masked it with a slow nod.

“Fine,” she murmured.

Flint’s mouth curved into something fierce. “Then let’s get to work.”

The farmhouse became a hive of activity—the air crackling with barely contained aggression as plans were made. Maps covered the dining room table, laptops hummed with digital blueprints, and voices overlapped as they worked through every angle.

Jenna stood at the center of it all, arms crossed, jaw tight, her mind working through scenarios faster than the group could speak them aloud.

“We need an exit strategy,” Sybil said, tapping at her screen. “McVey’s estate has two primary access roads, but they’re both monitored. If things go sideways, we can’t be scrambling for a way out.”

Ember, scrolling through security reports on another laptop, nodded. “His private security isn’t just muscle—they’re ex-military, shifter-trained. If they catch a scent of something off, we’ll be in deep.”

Jenna barely heard them. Her focus was on the eviction notice still lying on the table. Calloway was making his move, and McVey was waiting to sink his teeth into whatever lay beneath her land.

She wouldn’t let them take it. She sure as hell wouldn’t let them take her. A heavy presence filled the space behind her, heat pressing along the length of her back, but she didn’t turn.

“Five minutes,” Flint murmured.

She set her jaw. “I’m busy.”

His fingers curled around her wrist—not harsh, but firm. “Not a request.”

Conversation faltered as the others picked up on Flint’s tone. Wes whistled low. “Here we go.”

Flint ignored him, already steering Jenna out of the room and onto the back porch The second they were out of sight, he spun her, backing her against the wall.

“You’re not going alone,” he said, voice low and cutting.

Jenna snorted. “We already covered that.”

Flint stepped closer, barely an inch between them. “You can walk into this fight, but I swear to God, you don’t get to walk away from me.”

The promise in his words sent something wild humming beneath her skin. Not fear. Not hesitation. Possession.

Jenna lifted her chin, meeting his gaze, unflinching. “I’m not. You’re going with me.”

Flint’s hands flattened against the wall on either side of her, his body caging hers in a way that was meant to be intimidating. For anyone else, it would have been. For her? It was fuel.

“You think this is a game?” he growled.

She tilted her head, voice soft but laced with fire. “You think I’m playing?”

Flint’s gaze dropped to her mouth, his restraint a living thing between them. For half a second, she thought he might finally close the distance, finally give in to whatever the hell was raging between them. Then he swore under his breath and shoved back, pacing like a caged animal.

Jenna folded her arms. “If you’ve got something to say, Mercer, now’s the time.”

Flint turned, his eyes sharp. “This isn’t just about McVey. It’s about you. You walk into that house, you put yourself in his sights, and I have to sit there and pretend I’m okay with that?”

“You don’t have to be okay with it,” she said. “You just have to back me up.”

Flint let out a short laugh, though there was no humor in it. “You really think I can just ‘back you up’ like you’re some soldier on the ground and I’m the guy in the tower?”

Jenna pushed off the wall, stepping into his space. “That’s exactly what I think. He isn’t going to deal with you. I’m the person standing in his way.”

Flint’s hand shot out, gripping her waist, the hold tight enough that her breath stuttered. Not from pain. From the heat, from the sheer force of him.

“I protect what’s mine,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Jenna’s pulse kicked up. “Is that what I am? Yours?”

Flint’s fingers flexed, his eyes darkening. “Yes and you damn well know it.”

They stood like that, a breath away from something dangerous, something unstoppable. Then the kitchen door opened and Wes stuck his head out. “Are y’all done growling at each other, or should we leave you alone to work it out?”

Flint didn’t move, didn’t let her go.

Jenna shook her head. “Looks like we’ll have to table this discussion.”

Flint’s grip tightened for the briefest second before he finally let her go, stepping back. But the heat between them didn’t fade. Not even a little.