Wren wasn’t supposed to be out on that stretch of road after dark. The light was fading, the air was wrong, and the shadows felt like they were watching.
Then a quiet, matte?black motorcycle hummed to life — and the man beside it stepped out of the night.
Kade doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t offer comfort. He doesn’t pretend the dark is harmless. He watches the shadows like he knows them, like he’s fought them, like he expects them to move.
When something stirs in the trees, he puts himself between Wren and whatever’s out there. Not because he knows her. Not because he should care. But because danger has noticed her — and he doesn’t trust the dark to leave her alone.
What begins as a silent escort through a night that feels alive becomes a connection neither of them meant to have. A presence. A warning. A quiet that feels like the beginning of something dangerous.
And when morning comes, the danger doesn’t stop.
Someone else is watching her. Someone who knows Kade’s name. Someone who isn’t supposed to be there.
