Page 29

It's a scorcher of a morning. The kind of Southern heat that clings to your skin and makes everything feel a little more mean. But it ain’t the weather that has my forehead scrunched and my gut twisted.

Heard from Oaks. He didn’t go anywhere. Good thing, too. There’s blood on the south fence line.

Fresh.

Still steaming in the grass.

And lying there, legs twisted like a broken marionette, is one of Sophie’s colts. One of the good ones. A Derby prospect.

Not just dead. Torn apart. Ripped open like it pissed off the devil himself.

There’s a stench that don’t belong on any farm.

Sweet, like rotted fruit left too long in the sun.

The colt’s eyes are still wide, frozen in terror, its legs bent the wrong way.

Whatever did this didn’t just kill, it played.

Marked territory. Sent a goddamn message.

I crouch low beside it, teeth grinding as I study the scene. Bite radius is too wide. Claws too damn deep. This wasn’t some coyote out for a snack. Hell, it ain’t even natural. I’ve seen this before, once. And that time nearly broke me.

Oaks steps up beside me, his voice tight. “This thing again?”

“It never left,” I mutter, standing slow, eyes still on the carnage. “Just got better at hiding.”

Bullet shows up, already sweating through his shirt. He don’t waste time. “Legend, we got another problem. Becki’s gone.”

I stiffen. “What the hell do you mean gone?”

“Royal said she was pokin’ around, askin’ about the old attacks. Might’ve gone into the woods.”

“Goddammit,” I hiss, pulling out my phone. No texts. No location. Just silence.

“She’s got no business runnin’ off alone,” I snap. “Not now. Not with that thing back.”

I turn, all business. “Lock the damn roads. Nobody comes in or out of Paradise Falls unless I say so. Double the perimeter. Full sweep today. Every gun we got.”

Because if that creature gets anywhere near Sophie… or Becki… this whole county’s gonna burn.

I stomp to the house, blood still on my boots, and don’t even make it far before Sophie’s on me. Arms crossed, green eyes sharp and shining.

“Where the hell have you been?” she asks, voice high.

“There was a body,” I say flatly. “One of your colts. It wasn’t no accident.”

She blanches but holds her ground. “And Becki?”

So, that’s what’s on her mind. I run a hand down my face. “Gone. Maybe followed something out there. Oaks says she was askin’ questions.”

Her expression twists. “Why would she do that? Why would she care? Why does she care so much about you?”

I pause, the weight of it all pressing down.

“Because she’s my sister.”

Sophie blinks. “Your what ?”

“My adopted sister,” I clarify. “Reverend Crowley’s daughter. From Pearly Gates.”

Her whole face changes like I just slapped her. “That Becki? Rebecca Crowley? You mean the same Pearly Gates cult you swore you walked away from?”

“I did walk away,” I snap. “But Becki didn’t. Not really. She can’t ever truly get away because of her dad.”

“And you were in bed with her?” she fires back, voice sharp enough to cut bone.

“We weren’t blood,” I growl. “She wasn’t raised beside me. You know I went to Pearly Gates when we were both near grown. Becki and I clung to each other 'cause there was nobody else. It was survival, not love. Not what I have with you.”

“Oh, it’s not?” she says, backing up. “Because last night she stood on my porch acting like you were hers.”

“She was mine, for a while. A long while ago. It ended. I made that damn clear.”

“Did you?” she says, arms wrapping around herself. “Because it sounds a lot like she didn’t get the memo.”

I step in, eyes hard. “You think I’m still hung up on her?”

“I think you’ve got unfinished business with someone from a family who hates me, and that scares the hell out of me.”

I reach for her hand, but she pulls away.

And that’s the part that guts me. Not the anger.

Not the questions. But the way her warmth slips through my fingers like she’s already halfway gone.

“You’re the one I came back for,” I say.

“You’re the one I’d kill for. That thing out there already took one life.

I’m not lettin’ it take another.” My voice breaks on the last word.

Because it ain’t just about the colt or Becki or that thing out there with teeth.

It’s about her. It’s always been about her.

And losing Sophie would be the one wound I wouldn’t come back from.

She’s quiet, but the fire in her eyes hasn’t dimmed.

“Then go find your sister,” she says, chin lifting. “Because if you’re serious about me, you better handle your past before it buries both of us.”

I nod once, sharp. No room left for doubt.

“I will,” I say. “And when I come back, we end this, for good.”

Then I hightailed it out of there, my boots beating a rhythm on the porch steps.

Because I ain’t just fighting monsters in the woods.

I’m fighting for the only damn woman who ever made me want to stay.