Page 31 of Roaring Heat
"Then tell me," I say, daring him to stop holding back.
He exhales and paces in a tight arc, then again, tension building in his shoulders. On the third pass, he stops abruptly, dragging a hand over the back of his neck like he’s trying to scrub away the thoughts gathering there.
"The ley lines don't just run through Redwood Rise. They anchor it. They protect it. That rupture? That was the first time in more than a century something broke through. And it happened the same week you arrived."
"It's not my fault. I didn’t cause it."
"Maybe not deliberately, but it’s reacting to you. It's drawn to you. Hell, it lashed out when you got too close."
"You think I’m a danger."
He doesn’t answer.
"Say it. Tell me what you're thinking."
Beau looks at me, every line in his face carved deep. "I think you're not just in this. I think you're part of it. I think the land started waking up when my brother, Calder's mate, Cilla arrived. But it seems to have gained sentience because of you. And I don't know what that means."
The silence that follows is deafening and so much worse than a shouted accusation.
I nod once. Tight. Controlled. "Then maybe you should have let me go when you had the chance."
The words taste bitter the moment they leave my mouth, but I don’t pull them back. I need to know where he stands. If he’s going to protect this town no matter the cost, then I have to know if that cost includes me. I chose to stay here; I made that clear at the cottage when I stood on the porch and told theforest to watch me. But now, with everything unraveling, the question claws at me: does Beau see me as part of this place or as something dangerous he’ll have to sacrifice?
His eyes flare, sharp and wounded all at once. “Don’t.”
“Maybe you should’ve let the elk trample me. Or let the ley lines decide.”
He steps closer, his presence closing around me like heat. “Stop.”
“Why? Because now you regret it?” My voice shakes, but I force the words out, afraid of the answer even as I demand it.
His jaw tightens, breath brushing mine as he crowds the space between us. “No. Because I would never regret saving you. Not then. Not now. Not ever.” His hand hovers near my cheek, not touching, but close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off him. “You’re not the cost, Anabeth. You’re the reason I fight to keep this place standing.”
The words hit hard, raw and certain, and for a moment I can’t breathe. It isn’t fear that grips me. It’s the way my body leans toward him, drawn like iron to a magnet, aching to believe every syllable that just left his mouth.
He strides forward, gripping my arms. "I would never regret saving you. Never. But if you think I won’t fight tooth and claw to protect this place—even from something you can’t control—then you don’t know me at all."
I meet his gaze, heart hammering. "Then start fighting. But don’t pretend you can push me out of this like I don’t belong. The land already decided. I’m here. Whether you like it or not."
His mouth opens, but no words follow. Above us, the trees release a long, strained creak as the ground beneath our feet shivers with another deep, rhythmic pulse, as though the earth itself is drawing breath.
Whatever has awakened, it’s not going back to sleep. Somewhere deep in the forest, a low howl threads through thesilence. Haunting. Not animal. Not wind. Something ancient moving beneath the canopy of the redwoods, its presence curled in wait just beyond the tree line, is watching.
CHAPTER 15
BEAU
The moment the howl fades, the forest holds its breath. Not just the kind of silence that follows a loud sound, but something deeper. Expectant. Waiting. My body is strung tight, ready to fight or protect or both, but all I can think about is the way Anabeth looked at me just now—challenging me, daring me to see her as something more than a threat.
I scan the trees, every instinct stretched to the edge, listening for something I can’t name. The silence isn’t safety. It’s a predator crouched just beyond the next breath. My bear shifts under my skin, alert, pressing forward, trying to scent what’s changed. But it’s not just the forest that’s waiting. It’s her. Anabeth, standing in the middle of a place no outsider should survive, daring the woods to reject her.
I reach for her hand, slow and deliberate, giving her the chance to pull away if she wants to. My fingers hover close before closing the distance, brushing her knuckles lightly before I let my palm settle against hers, steady and sure.
Her skin is cool but steady, her grip strong despite everything. Her fingers close around mine like we’ve done this before, like something in her remembers us even if her minddoesn’t. The contact is soft at first, then stronger, like her body is matching mine without needing instruction. The warmth of her skin bleeds into my palm, quiet but insistent, and I swear something in the air exhales.
We walk through the woods in silence, the energy still humming beneath the ground like a warning we haven’t earned the right to ignore. She keeps pace with me, her head tilted slightly like she’s listening not just for danger, but for the rhythm of the land beneath her feet. That alone makes something in my chest tighten. Most people resist the land’s voice, pretend it’s not speaking. She doesn’t. She listens. And the forest notices. I keep my body between her and the trees, scanning the dark for any movement. The threat is still out there. Maybe it always will be.
She keeps pace with me, her head tilted slightly like she’s listening not just for danger, but for the rhythm of the land beneath her feet. That alone makes something in my chest tighten. Most people resist the land’s voice, pretend it’s not speaking. She doesn’t. She listens. And the forest notices.
