Claimed By The Steel Pack のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 41 - チャプター 50

​The ride down the mountain took twenty minutes through thick fog and thick red mud that churned under the heavy tread of the tires. In the back of the truck, Miller was tied tight against the spare tire wheel, his groans cut off every time the suspension hit a deep rut in the trail. Up front, the cab smelled like wet wool, burnt powder, and the bitter tang of blood sitting on cold leather.​Kaelen didn't turn on the radio, and neither of us spoke until the truck rattled past the main gates and pulled into the dark gravel yard behind the old stone workshop. The main house sat higher up on the hill, its windows dark and empty against the black line of the forest, but the shop was already lit up from the inside, low yellow light bleeding out through the cracked glass of the high windows.​Marcus was waiting by the wide wooden doors, a heavy iron crowbar resting against his leg, his coat soaked through from standing out in the storm.​Kaelen killed the engine, tossed the keys onto the da

​The ringing in my ears took a long time to fade, replaced slow by the steady, hollow drumming of rain on the tin roof. Keller lay still on the wooden floor, his small gun resting two inches from his hand where Kaelen’s boot had pinned his wrist.​Kaelen didn't look down at the body again. He pulled a rag from his coat, wiped the blood off his shotgun, and shoved another shell into the side port with a sharp click.​Outside, the metal door swung open on rusted hinges, screeching as Marcus stepped into the office, his heavy boot kicking aside a piece of broken frame. Nora followed a second later, her long gun resting across her shoulder, her face pale under the black dirt and rain.​"Yard is clear," Marcus said, his breath coming out in white puffs in the cold room. "The guys in the trucks didn't even get their doors open before Nora took their tires out. Nobody got off the dirt."​"Searched the flatbed?" Kaelen asked, his voice low and rough.​"Full of fence posts, wire, and surveyor

​The main house was quiet when we pulled into the gravel drive, the black truck leaving deep tracks in the wet dirt. Morning light cut through the pine branches, turning the heavy gray stone of the front porch a dull white.​Marcus parked by the steps and turned off the truck. For the first time in weeks, the silence around the place felt clean, free of the sound of distant engines or the constant wait for a bullet.​Kaelen got out, grabbed the leather bag off the dash, and held out his hand. I took it, my fingers wrapping around his palm, cold skin against warm hand.​We walked up the stone steps together. Marcus and Nora stayed by the truck, leaning against the hood, watching the tree line with their hands low, but the tightness was gone from their shoulders. The men along the fence were already pulling down the old warning flags and driving heavy steel posts into the ground.​Inside, the big hall was cold and dark, smelling of beeswax, old wood, and the faint trace of my father’s t

​The lawyer stood by the high iron gates, shifting his weight from foot to foot on the wet gravel. He wore a dark wool suit that looked too thin for the mountain air, his shoes already ruined by the red mud. Next to him, a young courier sat inside a small black car, the engine running low, waiting with a heavy leather pouch resting on the passenger seat.​When Kaelen and I stepped onto the gravel path, the lawyer’s eyes darted past us, looking at the tree line, then at the bloodstains still drying near the porch steps. He swallowed hard, his throat clicking in the quiet.​"Miss Vane," he said, taking a quick step forward before Marcus blocked his path with a flat hand against his chest. The lawyer stopped cold, lifting both hands in the air. "I'm... I'm here from the district court office. Mr. Sterling sent me to check the real deeds before the final closing."​"Sterling didn't send you," I said, stopping five feet away. The leather bag was heavy in my left hand. "Sterling is in a jai

​Night fell cold over Blackwood, the dark pulling in tight around the old stone house. Up on the porch, Marcus sat with his feet up on the railing, cleaning the bolt of his rifle by the light of an oil lamp, the click of metal filling the quiet yard.​Inside, the fire in the study had burned down to a pile of red coals.​I stood by the tall glass windows, my forehead resting against the cold glass. Out in the dark, the north ridge was just a black shape against the stars, but for the first time in my life, I didn't feel like the shadows out there were coming to take something from me.​Behind me, the door opened and closed with a soft latch sound. Kaelen’s boots were quiet on the rug as he walked over, stopping right behind me. His heat radiated off him, cutting through the chill of the window glass.​"Marcus and Nora are taking the first watch," Kaelen said, his voice low near my ear. "They'll trade off at two."​"They don't need to stay out there all night," I said softly, looking a