7. Serenity

Serenity

I just had my first sip of coffee when Ethan's Mercedes pulls into the parking lot in front of my office. My stomach clenches as he strides toward the building, predatory grace wrapped in a designer suit.

"Looking lovely as ever, Serenity." Ethan doesn't wait for an invitation before he settles into the chair across from my desk. His cologne is too strong, and it smells artificial compared to the freshness of Agis's forest scent.

"What do you want?"

"Just checking on my investment." His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Heard you've been spending time with an orc. Quite a step down from me, don't you think?"

I keep my voice steady. "My personal life isn't your business anymore."

"Everything about you is my business." He leans forward, dropping the fake charm. "You really think some monster can protect you? Your parents thought they were untouchable too. Look how that worked out."

Ice spreads through my veins. "Get out."

"Only two weeks left on the loan, sweetheart." He stands and adjusts his cuffs. "Tick tock."

Through the window, I watch him leave, his words echoing in my head. Your parents thought they were untouchable too.

When Agis bursts in moments later, I'm still staring at the spot where Ethan's car had been.

"Did he threaten you?" Agis growls, checking me for harm.

I swallow hard. "Something he said about my parents. I think... I think he knows more about their accident than he's letting on."

Agis pulls me close and his massive frame vibrates with protective fury.

Something needed to be done about Ethan, but I wasn’t yet sure what.

Sending Agis back out to work, I stare at my desk. Ethan threatened my parents, I’m sure of it. But could he have something to do with their deaths? I dig through the desk drawers, something nagging at me - a memory of Mom being worried those last few weeks.

The bottom drawer sticks, like always, but yields to a firm tug. Inside, her logbooks line up by date, spines labeled in her precise handwriting.

I pull out the last one, dated just before their death. My breath catches at her familiar script: March 15 - Equipment shed locks broken again. J says kids, but doesn't feel right. Found strange residue on backup gear. Taking samples to lab tomorrow.

March 16 - E stopped by. Aggressive about selling. Threatened to "make things difficult." Checking all gear triple time now.

March 17 - Lab results inconclusive. Substance appears industrial, highly corrosive. Ordering all new equipment.

March 18 - New ropes and carabiners arrived. Old ones quarantined in shed.

My hands shake as I turn to the final entry, dated the day before their last climb: March 20 - Something's wrong. Shed broken into again. J checking primary gear but worried about backup. E watching property. Don't trust him. If anything happens…

The sentence trails off. I glance at the date again.

They died the next day.

I slam the drawer shut as nausea rises in my throat. All this time, the evidence was here. Mom knew something was wrong. She was trying to tell us.

Through our mate bond, I feel Agis's concern pulse. But beneath my grief rises something stronger.

Ethan won't get away with this. Not anymore.

***

Later on, I watch Agis repair the wolf enclosure fence. His massive hands, so filled with deadly potential, handle the tools with surprising gentleness. Just like he handles me.

Two weeks since that first night together, and already I can't imagine life without him.

"Watch your back, big guy," I call out as one of the wolves approaches. The wolf sniffs his leg, then flops down to watch him work.

I hide my smile. Even the animals trust him.

"Need any help?" I ask, though I know what he'll say.

"No mate of mine carries lumber," he rumbles, but his eyes crinkle with affection.

That's another thing I'm getting used to - his protective instincts. Where Ethan's possessiveness had felt suffocating, Agis's care feels like being wrapped in a warm blanket. He doesn't try to control me, he just... cherishes me.

I check my phone, and grimace at another text from the bank. The center's accounts are still in the red, and Ethan's deadline looms closer.

Agis senses my worry because he sets down his tools and crosses to me. One huge finger tips my chin up.

"We’ll fix it together," he says.

I lean into his touch. "I know. It's just... this place was my parents' dream. Their legacy. I can't lose it."

"Won't lose." He pulls me close, and I breathe in his forest scent. "I protect what's precious to my mate."

I can feel his absolute conviction, his unwavering devotion. For the first time since my parents died, I feel truly safe. Protected. Loved.

If only they could have met him. Dad would have loved his quiet strength. Mom would have appreciated his gentle way with the animals.

A wolf pup tumbles over to investigate us, and Agis scoops it up with one hand. The pup licks his face and makes him laugh - a deep sound that vibrates through me.

"See?" he says, letting the pup gnaw harmlessly on his finger. "Even little ones know friends from foe."

I watch him with the pup and my heart is full. How could I have gotten so lucky? After Ethan's betrayal, I'd thought I'd never trust again. But Agis... he's different. No more looking over my shoulder. No more waiting for the other shoe to drop.

We spend the rest of the afternoon checking on the animals. Agis finishes the fence while I update medical records and feed schedules. The easy rhythm of working together, punctuated by shared glances and brushing touches, feels like a dream.

As evening falls, we head back to my cabin. He builds a fire while I make dinner, and we move around each other like we've done this forever.

Later, I lay in his arms, tracing the bold tattoos that wind across his chest. The fire has burned low and casts dancing shadows across his green skin.

"I'll fix this," he promises, his deep voice vibrating through me. His massive hand spans my entire back, warm and somehow gentle despite its strength. "I'll save your center."

"We'll fix it together." I press a kiss to his chest, still amazed at how this fierce creature can be so tender. "But first, I need tea. Want some?"

He shakes his head. I slip from bed, pull on his discarded shirt, and breathe in his wild forest scent. The shirt falls nearly to my knees—everything about him is massive.

In the kitchen area, I fill the kettle and reach for the tea tin. Dad always said tea could fix anything. Even when Ethan first approached us about selling the land, Dad would make tea and we'd talk through solutions.

The memory makes my hands shake. If Dad were here, he'd know what to do about Ethan's threats.

The tin catches on something as I pull it forward. A small cloth bag tumbles out, spilling its contents across the counter and floor. Casino chips scatter like drops of blood—red, blue, green. Paper markers flutter down, bearing names like The Royal Flush and Fortune’s Gate.

My stomach lurches as I pick up one of the IOUs. The amount... It's staggering. More than enough to save the center.

Memories flash through my mind - Ethan at the poker tables, that predatory gleam in his eyes. The way gambling had changed him and made him cruel. How it had made him see people as things to be used and discarded.

"It's just a game, baby," he used to say. "Until it isn't."

"Agis?" My voice cracks. "What is this?"

He sits up in bed, instantly alert. When he sees what I'm holding, his face falls. In that moment, he looks exactly like Ethan did when I caught him cheating—at cards, and on me.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” he says, “I can explain.”

But I'm already backing away, clutching his shirt around me like armor. The mate bond screams in protest, but I can't listen.

Not again.

Not another gambler.

Not another liar.

"Have you been playing me this whole time?" The words taste like ash. "Was any of it real?"

"Serenity, no—"

"Get out." Tears spill down my cheeks. All that talk of mate bonds and traditions—was it just another con? "Just get out!"

He stands and pulls on his sweatpants. "Please let me explain."

"GET OUT!"

The door closes behind him with terrible finality and I slide down the cabinet to sit among the scattered chips and markers, each one a broken promise.

What have I done? How could I have been so stupid? But better this pain now than watching another man I love be twisted by cards and chips.