1. Serenity

Serenity

“ I ’m coming for you, Serenity,” Ethan murmurs through the phone.

“You sound like a cartoon villain,” I force out, aiming for mockery but hearing the tremor in my voice betray me. The jeep's parked, but my fingers are locked around the steering wheel so tight I can feel my pulse throbbing in my whitened knuckles. “Why are you doing this?”

His chuckle is deep. “Because I can.”

The simple brutality of his answer steals my breath. Of course. Power was always what Ethan craved most.

I try to swallow but my throat feels like sandpaper.

The bastard knows exactly what he's doing. He watched me struggle to keep Red Top afloat after inheriting it, watched me sink deeper into desperation until I had no choice but to turn to his "alternative financing." The wildlife center has been bleeding money faster than I can patch the wounds, and some of those emergency transfusions came with interest rates that would make a mob boss blush. Ethan's legitimate casino business is just gift wrapping on his real enterprise—breaking people who have nowhere else to turn.

The image of my parents flashes unbidden through my mind—their bright faces the morning they left for that fatal climb two years ago. The memory twists something in my chest. They were veterans of the mountain, and had scaled peaks that would make most climbers quit in terror. The official report blamed equipment failure, but that never added up. Mom checked her gear obsessively, and Dad could spot a frayed rope from twenty feet away.

But I can't let myself spiral down that rabbit hole. Not now. Not when Ethan's breathing on the other end of the line, waiting to hear me break.

“You have three weeks,” he says, his voice full of venom.

My head falls back against the headrest as reality crushes down. The Wildlife Center—my parents' dream made real—sprawls across acres of pristine land backing up to the National Forest. Prime real estate that developers would kill for. And now Ethan holds every loan, every debt, every noose around my neck. One default and it all crumbles. The thought of him destroying everything my parents built makes bile rise in my throat.

"Why do you hate me?" The question escapes before I can stop it, raw and desperate.

His breathing turns ragged, predatory. "No one says no to me." The line goes dead with the finality of a coffin lid slamming shut.

"Hello? Hello?" My voice echoes in the empty car. Nothing but silence and that merciless deadline hanging over me.

"You absolute bastard." The words taste like dirt in my mouth. All because I had the audacity to end things, to tell the great Ethan Morrison that I didn't want him anymore. Now he's orchestrated my financial ruin like some twisted revenge fantasy.

A scream of frustration builds in my chest but I swallow it down, my hands shaking with rage. What cosmic crime did I commit to deserve this nightmare? Some men's egos are like glass—shatter them and they turn the shards into weapons.

The winter-bare trees beyond the parking lot blur as tears threaten. I bite my lip until I taste copper, refusing to let them fall. At twenty-five, my parents' deaths thrust the weight of the entire Center onto my shoulders—every staff member's livelihood, every animal's wellbeing, every single responsibility they once carried. The burden threatens to crush me some days.

I glare at the phone still clenched in my trembling hand. God, I was such a fool. I really thought Ethan would help me navigate this mess when I had nowhere else to turn. Instead, he's engineered my downfall so completely I might not even make payroll this month.

The bite of winter wind cuts through my coat as I force myself out of the jeep, a shiver running deep into my bones. There's no snow yet, but it's coming—I can smell it in the air, feel it in the savage chill that whips across the empty parking lot. Like nature itself is warning me of the storm about to break.

I open the back to unload the pastries. Red Top Bakery, and my friend Julie, do amazing work and she’s been kind enough to let me have them at a discount. The scent of cinnamon wafts past my nose and I have to hold myself back from eating them all now.

After that frustrating call with Ethan, that’s exactly what I need—a sugar coma. Still, I hold myself back, because these are for my staff, and I owe them more than I could ever say.

But I feel someone's eyes on me, so I turn toward the end of the parking lot, my hand half-raised to wave. I blink at the man… er, creature at the edge of the parking lot.

The sun is sinking behind the form of a massive orc—even in the months Talon's been here, I haven't gotten used to saying that word. But I don’t know this orc.

He’s over seven feet tall and broad-shouldered, with a deep green complexion and two tusks jut out from between his lips. He wears a blue baseball cap and gray sweatpants, but no shirt across his broad muscled chest. Despite the weather, his large feet are bare on the rough concrete.

"How can I help you?" I ask. It's best to be direct, I expect. The only other orc I've ever met is my employee, Talon, and he seems to appreciate forthrightness.

The orc answers without hesitation. "I am Agis. I am here to visit my brother."

Agis has more facial hair than Talon, a beard, and a mustache, trimmed rough, and are those tattoos along his arms?

I swallow, feeling warm in places I have no business feeling warm in. I do love a man with tattoos. Ethan had gotten those right, even if he’d been a nightmare of a boyfriend. I shake myself. Definitely not thinking about Ethan right now. I slide my sweaty palms along my jeans and offer Agis my hand.

"I'm Serenity, the owner of the Wildlife Center," I say.

Agis crosses the asphalt, moving closer to me, and he drags his right leg a little behind. He looks at my hand in confusion as if he isn't sure what to do with it.

Still, I stay where I am and keep a smile on my face, even though I have to crane my neck back farther and farther to look up at his face.

Orcs are so huge.

He could crush me with a swipe of his arm, and somehow that turns me on.

Pull yourself together, Serenity.

I drop my hand. He's obviously not aware of that human custom. "Are you okay?" I ask, gesturing to his foot which is crisscrossed with ugly red cuts.

"A trap in the forest," he mutters. "It is noth—" he eyes me and sighs. “It hurts a little.”

"Oh no." I scowl toward the woods. I thought that Talon had taken care of the last of the poachers a few months ago, but they seem to sprout up like weeds.

“I’m sorry that happened. I thought the last of the poachers had cleared out… You should come inside and get checked on." I start to pile the boxes from my trunk into my arms.

I chew on my lip as I do. Orcs are scary big, but Talon has never threatened anyone here, and I hope that his brother will have a similar temperament. I certainly don’t need more trouble on top of Ethan’s threats.

"I help you with boxes," he says, limping over.

"I don't want to hurt you any further."

"I am orc," he says as he hits his chest. "We are tough."

I can't help the smile that crosses my face. I consider what it would feel like to be pressed against that muscular chest, and the way my nipples pucker has nothing to do with the cooling air. There's something wild and fierce about him even in sweatpants and a ballcap.

He takes all of the boxes in one towering pile. "These smell good."

I nod. "Cinnamon rolls for breakfast tomorrow. They're delicious."

He pops open the top box and scoops a roll into his mouth. His face puckers and then a wide grin settles across it. "I like these."

Then he grabs a second one. "Tasty," he says as if he's trying out the word.

"We like them too," I say as I reach up and close the box. "So don't eat them all."

His lips twist, and I’m not quite sure if it's amusement or annoyance.

Closing the jeep’s back door, I start toward the center. Agis walks along next to me, still dragging his leg. I hope he's not injured too badly. We have medics and vets on staff, but they aren't used to working on orc bodies.

Once we’re inside, I lead him down the hall to the cafeteria and we stack the boxes on a table near the kitchen.

I point to one of the benches. "You sit here," I say, "I’ll get Talon.”

He reaches for one of the pastry boxes, and I swat his hand. "I said no."

Agis stares at me in surprise. "Yes, Ser-en-ity," he says, feeling out how to say my name.

I swallow and force myself to turn away.