Chapter Seven

Killian zipped up Ethan’s thick jacket. It wasn’t as cold in the afternoon, and he wanted his fellas to get some fresh air. His family had left, though Killian thought he might have to eject his father out the front door. Quinton had so much fun with Ethan that he hadn’t wanted to leave.

Straightening, he checked Stewart’s coat as well, smirking when his mate batted his hands away.

“I can make sure my own jacket is zipped,” Stewart grumbled, but the sweet blush said he enjoyed the attention.

Killian just grinned, leaning in and brushing a quick kiss against his mate’s lips, savoring the warmth before stepping back. “You say that, but I’m not taking any chances. Gotta make sure my mate stays warm and cozy.”

Stewart rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips twitched upward, betraying his amusement. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm,” Killian shot back, scooping Ethan into his arms.

The little guy squealed, his tiny, gloved hands wrapping around Killian’s neck as they headed outside. The scent of pine lingered in the crisp air, mixing with the earthy aroma of fallen leaves.

The brisk chill nipping at Killian’s cheeks made the world feel alive. As Stewart walked beside him, their arms brushed every few steps. Each touch, however fleeting, sent warmth through Killian’s chest that had nothing to do with the jacket he wore.

“Where are we even going?” Stewart asked, his tone curious, though there was a hint of exasperation too. “Not that I’m complaining, but we’re just kind of wandering.”

Killian shrugged, the soft crackle of leaves punctuating the movement. “Figured we could let the cub lead the way. Right, buddy?” He looked at Ethan, who gave an excited nod.

“Pwaygwon,” the kid said with all the authority of a toddler on a mission. Ethan-speak for playground.

It was actually Frank who’d told Killian about the tiny playground a little farther behind the house. The owner had installed it when his children were little and had kept it maintained throughout the years until he’d moved into town.

Now Killian wasn’t sure who was more excited, the kid or himself.

“You heard him.” He turned to Stewart with a raised eyebrow. “The boss has spoken.”

Stewart laughed, a sound that was rich and free in the open air. “Well, who am I to argue with that?” He reached over, ruffling Ethan’s hair. “Lead on, oh fearless one.”

The playground wasn’t far, just as Frank had said. It was a small, quaint area with a set of swings, a slide, and a couple of seesaws. The metal structures were slightly rusted, but that didn’t stop Ethan from wiggling in Killian’s grasp, wanting to get down.

“Easy there, buddy,” he said as he lowered Ethan to the ground, the toddler immediately making a beeline for the swings. The chains rattled slightly as Ethan struggled to climb into one of the seats. Killian quickly stepped in to help, his big hands gently lifting Ethan into the bucket swing for toddlers.

Stewart leaned against the support bar of the swing set, watching them. “You look like you’ve done this before.” His gaze softened as he watched Killian give Ethan a gentle push.

“Nah, first time,” he admitted, his voice light. “Just comes naturally, I guess.” He caught the swing, giving it another push.

The air was filled with Ethan’s delighted giggles, causing Killian to chuckle. This right here? It was so much better than hearing the toddler cry.

Moving closer, Stewart nudged Killian’s side with his elbow. “You’re pretty good at this...you know, uncle stuff.” His voice was softer, almost hesitant.

When Killian turned his head, their gazes met. His mate’s green eyes were filled with a quiet tenderness, making Killian want to wrap his arms around Stewart and never let go. He gave a lopsided grin instead. “Think so, huh? Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was meant as one.” Stewart’s blush returned, coloring his cheeks in the cold. He looked down, kicking at a stray leaf. “I just…I never thought I’d see Ethan so happy, not after everything that’s happened.”

For a moment, Killian stopped pushing the swing, letting it sway on its own as he stepped closer to Stewart, his voice dropping. “ He’s got you. And now, he’s got me too. We’re a team, right?”

Stewart’s gaze lifted, meeting his, and for a moment, they just gazed at each other, the world around them falling away. “I still need more time,” he said finally, his voice cracking slightly.

Unable to resist, Killian leaned in, brushing his lips against Stewart’s. It was quick, fleeting, but the warmth lingered. He pulled back just enough to see Stewart’s eyes were still closed, his lips parted slightly.

“You know,” Killian said, keeping his voice low, “if you keep looking at me like that, we’re gonna have to find a more private place.”

His mate’s eyes popped open, widening in shock before narrowing with a mock glare. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, but there was a smile tugging at his lips.

“Already told you, it’s part of my charm.” Killian gave him a playful wink before turning back to Ethan. “All right, little guy, hold on tight!”

With a whoop, Killian gave the swing a push, sending Ethan flying just a little higher than before, the toddler’s laughter echoing through the clearing. Stewart stepped closer, and Killian felt their connection that only seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.

He glanced at Stewart out of the corner of his eye, catching the way his mate looked at Ethan then at him. There was a softness there that made Killian’s heart do a weird little flip. It wasn’t just about their bond. This was about building something real with Stewart, a family, something Killian had never imagined he’d have of his own.

“Bad man,” Ethan whispered ominously when the swing came back down, but Killian had heard the cub.

Unsure what Ethan was talking about, Killian scanned the area. A movement past Stewart grabbed his attention, but it disappeared too quickly for Killian to get a good look. His bear stood up and took notice, snarling at the possible threat.

Killian leaned over to Stewart, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Take Ethan back inside, now.”

His mate’s brows furrowed, the confusion plain in his eyes. “What—”

“Now.” Killian’s voice left no room for argument as he unbuckled the swing and handed the toddler off to Stewart while still scanning the tree line. “Go. Lock the door behind you.”

Without another word, Stewart turned, hustling toward the back of the house with Ethan clutched tightly against him. The toddler looked over Stewart’s shoulder at Killian, his eyes wide with fear.

That look alone made Killian want to rip out the heart of whoever or whatever had ruined their family time together.

He watched them until they disappeared through the back door, and only then did he allow his focus to return to the woods. He moved with measured steps, scenting the air as he walked. It had gotten colder in the short amount of time since they’d come out. The slight breeze bit at his skin, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the other sensations—the subtle rustle of leaves, the creaking branches swaying in the wind, the faint crunch of footsteps that weren’t his.

How had Ethan known when the intruder was hiding deep in the woods? Had the toddler caught a glimpse?

His bear snarled to get out, eager to deal with any threat to their mate and cub. Killian inhaled deeply, trying to catch a scent, but the wind shifted, carrying his hint to whatever was out here away from him.

He kept his back to the house, looking around, his gaze searching every bush and shadow that moved with the breeze. His pulse quickened, adrenaline flooding his veins as he crept closer to the tree line.

A flash of movement, a dark shape darting between two trees. Killian jerked his head toward it, his eyes narrowing, but he couldn’t see where they’d gone. He took a step, his boot crunching on a stray branch, the sound muffled by the wind.

Whoever was out here was staying downwind, making it impossible to catch their scent to track them.

A sharp sound from the direction of the house grabbed his attention. His head whipped around, his heart lurching.

Stewart.

Killian took off, feet pounding over the leaf-strewn ground as he raced toward the house. Reaching the back door, he shoved it open, causing it to slam against the wall with a resounding thud.

The kitchen was empty.

The house settled, the soft creak of old wood blending with the pounding of his pulse.

Killian moved, his steps controlled, despite the rage that threatened to boil over. When he reached the stairs, he ascended them slowly, each step careful, his weight distributed to keep from making any noise.

The baby gate hung wide open. There was no way Stewart would forget to close it. His mate was too paranoid with Ethan’s safety.

Killian walked through the opening, his eyes locked on the hallway.

Then he heard it. Breathing, heavy and panicked, coming from Ethan’s room.

Killian fisted his hands, his jaw clenching as he approached the closed door. He could hear it more clearly now, the rapid breathing of someone afraid, Ethan’s soft whimper, and the rustle of movement as whoever was inside tried to stay quiet.

“I know you’re out there,” a man said, his voice shaky.

The old hinges groaned slightly as Killian pushed open the door. His eyes locked on the man standing in the middle of the room, holding Stewart in front of him like a human shield.

Alonso.

The son of a bitch had one arm wrapped around Stewart’s chest, holding him close, while his other hand pressed the barrel of a gun against Stewart’s side.

With a deep snarl, Killian narrowed his eyes and stepped into the room. His sole focus was on Alonso as he wondered which method of torture would be fitting for touching his family.

He kept his voice calm, though the effort made his jaw ache. “Ethan, buddy, go to uncle’s bedroom,” he said without looking away from Alonso.

The gun wavered.

“Aim it at the toddler and I’ll be washing your blood from my hands for an entire week.”

The gun steadied.

Killian moved deliberately to his right and gripped the boy’s trembling hand, careful of his strength, and led him toward the bedroom door. “Go on, Ethan. I’ll be in there in a minute. Uncle has to make the bad man go away.”

Ethan stared wide-eyed at Stewart then looked up at Killian with so much innocence in his green eyes. “Badass.”

Killian smirked as Ethan raced out of the room. His gaze still hadn’t left Alonso’s, but his smirk faded into a deadly sneer. “Now, get that gun away from my mate or I’m going to violate your personal space in ways you’ve never dreamed of.”

Stewart frowned.

Alonso’s grip tightened, his eyes darting between Killian and the door. “I didn’t want this,” he said evenly, his tone belying his jittery movements. “I just need you guys to leave for a little while. I’m not trying to hurt anyone.”

“ You’re doing a pretty bad job of proving that. Let him go, and maybe I won’t rip your head off.”

Alonso’s eyes widened, his breath hitching. He took another step back, his hand shaking as he held the gun against Stewart. “I can’t do that. I’m in too deep. I just need—”

“You need to let him go.” A growl rumbled in Killian’s chest. He took a step forward. “ You’re not walking out of here with him. That’s a fucking promise.”

Killian was getting sick and tired of dealing with this assclown and even more tired of seeing that gun shoved into his mate’s side. Stewart looked terrified, although, so far, he’d held himself together. Killian just needed his mate to remain calm for a little while longer.

Alonso narrowed his eyes, his grip on Stewart tightening. “I don’t have a choice,” he muttered.

Killian took yet another step forward, his bear pushing, clawing to get free. “You have one choice, and that’s letting him go. Otherwise, you’re not leaving this room alive.”

That was a guarantee even if he complied. There was plenty of acreage on the property to bury a body. Or Killian could simply call his family to drop Alonso’s corpse off at the coroner’s office.

For a moment, Alonso seemed to consider it. Then, without warning, he shoved Stewart away, raising the gun and firing.

The sound was deafening in the small room, the flash blinding. Pain exploded in Killian’s side, white-hot and searing. He stumbled, his vision blurring as he watched Alonso bolt for the door, shoving past Stewart and disappearing.

“Ethan!” Killian managed to say, his voice barely a rasp.

“Oh god!” Stewart sprinted toward the door, but before he could get out of the room, Ethan was running to them.

Stewart’s panicked shout filled the room, but Killian barely heard it over the roaring in his ears. He dropped to his knees, his hand going to his side, his fingers coming away wet and red.

“Killian!” Stewart’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and desperate. He was there, his hands on Killian’s shoulders, his eyes wide with fear. “Okay. I’m a doctor. Just lie down and I’ll call an ambulance.” He grabbed the sheet off of Ethan’s bed and balled it up before pressing it into Killian’s wound.

Son of a bitch! He roared, the pressure only making the pain worse. Killian’s vision tunneled, the edges going dark as the pain radiated through him. He felt the shift coming on hard. “Don’t be afraid of him.”

Ethan walked closer, his gazed focused on Killian’s wound, his teddy bear clutched in his arms.

“Stop trying to talk.” Stewart leaned into the sheet. “I need you to hold this while I grab my phone.”

Killian shifted, his bear breaking free. The pain was still there, a dull throb in his side, but his beast didn’t care. It was focused on only one thing.

Protecting their mate and cub.

“Bear!” Ethan shouted excitedly.

Stewart gasped, stumbling back as he grabbed Ethan and shot around the bed.

“Pay whiff Bear!” The toddler cried.

Killian let out a low growl, the sound rumbling through the room, his vision darkening as his bear tried to stay upright, tried to protect. But the blood loss was too much, the room tilting, spinning, the world fading to black as he collapsed, his massive form hitting the floor with a heavy crash.