Colton held the second snare up in the porch light to show proof.The wire glinted pale, moonlight’s cruel twin, looped and ready to cinch around anything warm blooded and unlucky. My stomach rolled as if I could already feel it tightening.I opened the door only after I’d checked the lock twice, because my body was stubborn that way. Colton stepped inside without a word, boots leaving dark prints on my porch boards.His gaze moved past me to the garage like he could see through walls.“The fox?” he asked.“Sleeping,” I said, throat tight. “I sedated him lightly.”Colton nodded once, approval flickering in the set of his jaw. Then he looked down at the snare in his hand, and something hardened in him, quiet rage packed tight.“How many?” I asked.His eyes lifted to mine. “Three on your side of the treeline. One closer to the road.”My breath caught. “That’s.”“An over kill, I know,” he finished, voice low.I turned and led him into the garage, because the fox was there and the thrush
Última actualización : 2026-03-09 Leer más