LOGINTor POV
I can hear her crying before I even step through the door. And when I do, she bolts to me and I catch her as she throws herself into my arms. Her face is red, stained with tears, her green eyes bloodshot. "Uncle Tor..." she gasps for breath between each word, tearing my heart out. I wipe her cheeks with my thumb. "What's wrong, Angelcake?" "My bunny! I looked everywhere and he's gone. I think he's on that fucking tour bus!" Ah. The coveted stuffed bunny I gave her for her last birthday. She drags it everywhere with her. I try not to laugh at her epic use of the word "fucking." "Whoa. Kyra... that's a very bad word." Her eyes meet mine defiantly and she says she doesn't care. I love her fire. "I wonder where she learned that," Elara says, glaring at me. Kyra pulls on my hair. "He's gone, Uncle Tor. That's all that matters." "He's not gone, Angel. He's just on a journey. But ya know what? There's another bunny out there that needs you. Do you think we should go find him?" She nods solemnly and sniffles. "Yes. Right now." Ash and Elara just shake their heads when Kyra and I come back hours later with a new stuffed bunny... and a real live bunny equipped with a deluxe cage I set up by the window in her bedroom. Kyra is over the moon with the little rabbit we named Snuggles, and I feel like a hero for saving the day and bringing her smile back. "She's got you wrapped around her little finger, man," Aiden says. "And you're gonna take care of that rabbit, Tor," Elara warns. "I'm not cleaning that cage every week." I shrug. "I don't mind. Pets are good for kids. It teaches them responsibility." "She's five, Tor." "So? Age doesn't mean shit." I wink at Kyra who's cradling her new bunny across the room, an adorable smile on her face, tears long forgotten. It's the best high I've ever felt. **Tor** Aiden hands me a cup of black coffee and falls into the chair across from me at his kitchen table, zoning in on me with his dark eyes. "Sydni thinks you're avoiding her." My head hurts too much from drinking last night to deal with Aiden's probing into my life today. He's always trying to play shrink, and sometimes he has great advice, but other times his philosophical ramblings grate on my nerves. Now is one of those times. "That's because I am." I vaguely remElara her following me to the couch last night and me telling her to go fuck herself. "You think she deserves that? She just wants you to talk to her." "I have nothing to say to a chick that tells me she wants to get married one second and then admits she's in love with you the next." He shifts in his chair. "She's not in love with me, Tor." Something comes out of me that is half laugh and half snort. "Oh trust me, she is. And ya know what? I don't give a fuck. I'm done. You can have her." "I don't want her. I'm married." He fingers his platinum wedding band, turning it in circles. It's a habit he does often, and I'm not sure he even realizes he's doing it. As I sip my bitter coffee, I decide to let him stay in his delusion. Trying to make him see that Elara is never coming back is a feat I can't tackle. And if Sydni's attempts to do so haven't worked, then nothing will. Not many men can say no to Syd with her legs for days, flaming red hair, double D's, endless talent, and overactive sex drive. We'd all be better off if he would just hook up with her and move on with his life. Then they'd both be happy and I can slam the revolving door shut that she keeps trying to creep through every time she realizes she can't have him. I'm not going to be anyone's second choice. But somehow, I always am. I should just get the number two tattooed onto my forehead. "What are you two doing up so early?" Kyra interrupts our silent stare-off as she comes into the kitchen still wearing my sweatshirt from last night, no pants, and fuzzy purple socks. As she reaches up into the cabinet, she goes up on her toes to grab one of her favorite mugs that once was mine and the sweatshirt rides up, uncovering half her ass and exposing her white panties with red hearts. I quickly look away and bring my coffee cup to my lips. I didn't just see that. I didn't just see that... "I have a meeting and Uncle Tor had too much to drink so he slept here. And where are your clothes? I know we can afford pants. You shouldn't be walking around half-naked when we have company." She runs her hand through her rumpled hair. "Well, Dad, how was I supposed to know anyone was here? I just woke up. And it's only Tor. Since when is he company? He used to live with us." She opens the refrigerator and pulls out milk, eggs, cheese and a container of diced veggies, then bends over to take a frying pan out from one of the lower cabinets. I divert my eyes again as Aiden downs the last of his coffee and stands. "I'm outta here." He nods to me. "See ya later, man. Are you up for a ride tomorrow? It's supposed to be warm." I'm always up for a ride. "Hell yeah." "Dad, I'm making omelettes. Don't you want one before you go?" "I don't have time today. I'm sure Tor will eat one, though." He kisses her forehead. "I'll be home around four. We'll have dinner together." I'm not about to turn away food. "Actually, I could use something to eat." Kyra makes wicked omelettes, expertly folded like they give you at a diner. When I try to make one myself, it ends up looking like road kill.Tyler POVThe silence inside the cabin wasn't the peaceful, heavy quiet of the high woods. It was the dead, suffocating stillness that settles over a place after something violence has ripped through it.Five days.For five straight days, the small, hand-hewn cedar cabin sitting up on the northern ridge had been completely dark. No smoke curled from the fieldstone chimney into the freezing autumn air. No heavy boot prints broke the fresh, crusty layer of frost coating the narrow gravel path leading up from the driveway.Tyler Grace didn't break routine. He was a man built on habits, anchored to the clockwork rhythm of a life spent keeping the dark thoughts at bay. Every morning at precisely five-thirty, the rusted engine of his older-model Ford would rumble to life, its headlights cutting through the dense pine fog as he drove down the mountain to the shelter. He was always the first to arrive, always there to unlock the feed barn, haul the heavy sacks of grain, and check the perimete
Tor POVThe biting mountain wind whistled through the high, bare canopy of the white pines, carrying the bitter, unmistakable chill of imminent snow.Deep in the dense forest behind the shelter, the afternoon shadows had stretched into long, dark fingers across the freezing mud. The damp earth was littered with slick pine needles, cracked twigs, and patches of crusty, hardened ice that crunched violently beneath my heavy work boots. Every breath I pulled into my lungs felt like swallowing crushed glass, burning straight down into my chest as we combed through the thick underbrush for the fourth straight hour.Beside me, Kyra’s small frame leaned into the steep incline of the ravine.Her face was pale, her dark eyes wide and rimmed with red, her nose and cheeks flushed a deep, painful crimson from the freezing wind. Her hands, shoved into oversized leather work gloves, were caked in dried mud and pine sap from pulling herself up the rocky ledges. She was exhausted, shaking with a bone-
Tor POVThe heavy security door of the shelter’s back office clicked shut, cutting off the sharp whistle of the freezing mountain wind outside.The room was dim, lit only by the pale, cold glare of three high-definition monitors mounted on the wall above the desk. The air in the tiny office was suffocatingly thick, smelling of damp flannel, stale coffee, and the sharp, chemical reek of the solvent Jax was still using out in the yard to scrub the red aerosol paint off the trailer's aluminum siding.I stood behind the heavy leather chair, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, my broad frame casting a long, dark shadow across the floorboards.Beside me, Leo sat hunched over the keyboard, his face illuminated by the harsh blue light of the security system interface. His knuckles were white where his fingers rested on the plastic mouse, his jaw set so hard a muscle in his cheek ticked with every heavy breath he drew."I pulled the footage from the three perimeter feeds," Leo murmured, his
Tor POVThe sharp, heavy crunch of gravel beneath my boots echoed through the freezing morning air, sounding like breaking bone in the heavy silence.I walked down the narrow dirt path behind the shelter’s main barn, my shoulders tense beneath my canvas work jacket, my hands shoved deep into my pockets to keep my knuckles from cracking in the sudden, biting cold. The sky above was a flat, bruised sheet of slate grey, heavy with the promise of early snow. A mile out in the dense woods behind the fence line, I could hear Leo and Jax shouting Barnaby's name, their deep voices rising and falling against the steady rustle of the pine canopy.Kyra was out there with them, her boots tracking through the freezing mud, refusing to step inside until Barnaby was back in her arms.Every minute he was out in those woods with a missing leg, stranded in the rocky ravines toward the river, was a burning blade twisting in my gut. But I knew Barnaby, he was smart, resilient, and stubborn as hell. He wa
Tor POVThe sharp, heavy crunch of gravel beneath my boots echoed through the freezing morning air, sounding like breaking bone in the heavy silence.I walked down the narrow dirt path behind the shelter’s main barn, my shoulders tense beneath my canvas work jacket, my hands shoved deep into my pockets to keep my knuckles from cracking in the sudden, biting cold. The sky above was a flat, bruised sheet of slate grey, heavy with the promise of early snow. A mile out in the dense woods behind the fence line, I could hear Leo and Jax shouting Barnaby's name, their deep voices rising and falling against the steady rustle of the pine canopy.Kyra was out there with them, her boots tracking through the freezing mud, refusing to step inside until Barnaby was back in her arms.Every minute he was out in those woods with a missing leg, stranded in the rocky ravines toward the river, was a burning blade twisting in my gut. But I knew Barnaby, he was smart, resilient, and stubborn as hell. He wa
Kyra POVThe cold autumn wind whipped through the towering pines surrounding Wolfy’s Place, carrying the sharp, bitter scent of coming snow and damp pine needles.I stood in the center of the main gravel courtyard, a heavy plastic bucket of fresh water weighing down my right arm, my breath rising in thick, white clouds into the grey morning air. The shelter was usually a place of chaotic, joyful noise, a symphony of barking rescue dogs, the clinking of metal food bowls, and the low, steady rumble of the shelter vans rolling down the dirt driveway.Today, the silence hanging over the sanctuary felt heavy, unnatural, and suffocating.Out beyond the heavy iron gates at the edge of the property, three news vans remained parked along the tree line, their dark camera lenses glinting through the thick brush like hunting scopes. Every time one of us stepped outside the main office, a barrage of shutter clicks echoed through the trees, a constant, sickening reminder of the storm raging outside







