He knows.
He knows about the pin.
I jerk back, adrenaline surging. “How?—”
“Shh.” Mark’s smile widens, but it’s not friendly now. It’s sharp. “You should’ve stayed on the mountain.”
I open my mouth to scream, but a van door slides open behind me. A gloved hand clamps over my mouth. I bite. Hard. The hand jerks, but another arm hooks around my waist and hauls me backward like I weigh nothing.
My scream turns into a muffled, furious sound against the glove.
Mark’s eyes stay on mine as they drag me toward the van. “I bet you wish you could tell Rhett,” he says softly, almost amused, “that he should’ve listened to Silas.”
Then they shove me inside. The door slams. The world becomes darkness and motion and the sick realization that I didn’t just make a mistake.
I walked straight into his hands. And now Rhett is going to come for me. He has to. Because I can’t do this alone.
Not anymore.
TEN
RHETT
The first time I notice she’s not around, it’s small. A missing sound.
Emma’s laugh. Her footsteps. Her voice calling me “Mr. Tactical Mood Swing” like she’s trying to poke a crack in my armor just to see what’s underneath.
I’m walking into the main lodge with a mug of coffee and a head full of plans—find Wyatt, get an update, figure out what Silas has, keep Emma close—when the quiet hits me wrong.
The silence is deafening.
I scan the common area automatically. Harper’s got Poppi on her hip. Kayley’s balancing Aidan on her knee. Chase is in the kitchen arguing with Boyd about whether eggs can be “over-hardened.” Thorne is posted near the window like the human version of a security camera. Gavin is at the board, talking low with Rafe.
No Emma.
My chest tightens, and I turn on my heel and head straight for my cabin. The path is clear. Snow still falling. My boots hit the porch steps fast. The door’s locked. I punch the code and step inside.
The cabin is warm, fire low… and empty. The bed is made. Everything looks just as we left it, but still the space feels wrong. Like something’s missing.
Her bag is gone.
My stomach drops like I just stepped off a cliff. “Emma?” I call, voice rough. Nothing answers but the crackle of the fire and the quiet thud of my heartbeat getting louder. I move through the cabin fast—bedroom, bathroom, back door—checking corners like she’s a hostile and not the woman who fell asleep in my arms two nights ago.
Nothing.
What the fuck?
I stand in the middle of the living room, jaw clenched so hard it hurts. Where the hell would she go? And why wouldn’t she tell me? Confusion wraps around me as I stare at the spot her bag was sitting.
I thought we had something.
I’m already moving back toward the lodge, anger sparking under the fear. She’s not a prisoner here—but she’s also not safe outside the perimeter. Not with Mark Renshaw still out there and Mia missing and everything tightening around us like a noose.
I slam into the main lodge and catch Silas near the meeting room. “Where is she?” I snap.
Silas’s brow furrows. “Who?”
My hands curl into fists. “Emma.”