A Dark Fantasy Romance Novel

Nona: Chapter 2

Farm Boys

Taking in the view of the front yard through the floor-to-ceiling windows,
I did what I did every morning…

I reflected on my existence while I watched steam swirl from my piping hot ‘Chicks Dig Soil’ mug of mint-chocolate coffee.

I didn’t bother trying to drink it, I just loved the smell.

I was getting better at pretending to be one of them.

Make the coffee, go to work, prune the roses—repeat for all eternity.

My sisters call it playing dress-up. Maybe they’re right.

It had been a long time since I’d allowed myself to settle down for this long. I’d roamed the city, making my home wherever the wind took me—always moving, never far. Now that I’d rooted myself in one neighborhood, time slipped by, decades passing without consequence. Not that anyone, not even the neighbors up the street, noticed.

If anyone were to ask about the modern farmhouse at the end of the cul-de-sac, they’d give vague answers and foggy recollections. They might mention the style of house—white siding, black trim, raw wood, a metal roof—but little else. Even the nosiest neighbor, Mrs. Abernathy, would struggle to recall most of our conversations.

That was my favorite form of punishment: giving her partial knowledge of my existence while condemning her to the torment of forgetfulness.

I flicked my gaze across the lawn to the house opposite mine. Curtains drawn. No movement.

Intrusive as she was, I didn’t mind her remembering fragments. Someone should know something about me; it might as well be her. Harmless, really.

Well… except to poor Henry.

It wasn’t cruelty that drove me—it was balance. Mortals weren’t built to remember gods for long. Their minds grew brittle and weak, worn down by the overwhelming presence of raw energy.

A red cardinal landed on a branch outside my window, eyed me for a moment, then flew off again. I smiled faintly as I watched him glide through the yard. Sunrise was my favorite part of the day—birds busy, light soft, the world pretending to begin again.

With a weary sigh, I sighed, “Day six-hundred ninety-three thousand and five hundred… what’s another day of the same old, same old?”

I turned toward the foyer stairs. Time to get ready. Saturday meant Farmer’s Market Day, and expectant customers would be waiting. The days were boringly predictable, but of all my ventures, Nona’s Garden was the one I preferred to handle myself. People came in short bursts, then left—no risk of overloading them with power. The steady rhythm helped the hours unravel faster.

And I’d do anything to make this time unravel faster.

---

Two hours later, the stall was alive with color and chaos. Crates of tomatoes, herbs, and peaches gleamed under the early sun. Nikki stood beside me, her expression doing most of the heavy complaining.

“Dea, is it just me, or is there more produce than normal? It took like forty-five minutes to unpack today! By the gods, I swear you don’t pay me enough.”

“Seriously, stop complaining. You begged to help this century, remember? Don’t make me regret granting your parole from eternal boredom.” I wagged a finger at the shorter woman next to me, but smiled at her use of the nickname she’d given me a long time ago. It showed how she felt about me, even when her words didn’t.

“Whatever.” She sighed and leaned on the wooden table like a tragic poet, the silver threads of her aura floating around her as a reminder that she wasn’t human.

At five feet, she was a small thing to my five-eleven, but she could be a colossal handful. Nikki wore long, wavy black hair loosely down her back and shoulders. It hid her slightly pointed ears. Her age was a mystery to most—she could pass for twenty-five, but considering we met in the first century… she was much older than twenty-five.

Her usually serious expression didn’t jibe with the seventies hippie style she favored either. She looked like a flower child, but her mood said prickly pear.

“Get over it. The other stalls are almost ready now, and the gates are about to open.” I checked my makeup in my glittery compact mirror.

Cat eyes still sharp? Check.
Lip gloss still intact? Check.

Also stealing from the styles of the past today, my sleek dark-brown hair was in a nineteen-sixties updo with a cotton scarf woven intricately in. I was the freshest thing at Loganville Market in my colorfully patterned sleeveless shirt, green pencil skirt, and pink wedge shoes. Well, next to Nikki, of course. Her looks could stop traffic when she decided to smile.

It was difficult to feel attractive, in the human sense, when some perceived you as a monster. I glanced down at my outfit in consideration.

“Try not to fall in love with yourself, Narcissus.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she raised one eyebrow at me. “You are as gorgeous as the dawn, and you know it. Stop preening.”

“He was a foolish mortal; I am not.” I waved her off, but snapped the mirror shut anyway.

The gates opened, and the market bloomed. Rows of tents lined the old library parking lot, their diverse awnings fluttering like festival banners. The smell of coffee, sugar, and cut flowers hung in the air. The humans came in droves—smiling, chatting, walking their dogs, blissfully ignorant of how fragile their peace really was.

Paper cups clinked, vendors called prices, and somewhere nearby, a child demanded a second cookie like it was a sacred right. The pattern was so terribly beautiful to look at.

The space around them shimmered with threads—thin, luminous lines tying every soul to each other and to fate. Each soul blending into another.

I frowned at the scene.

Humans were my favorite toys—fragile, predictable, delightful most days. I hadn’t meant to get so entangled in the intricate details of their lives. But the longer I had stayed, the harder it had been not to play along.

Humans never stopped fascinating me, even if they all blurred together after a while—threads in the same tapestry, repeating the same patterns. I’d learned every shade of mortal longing, every angle of their feelings now.

What would I do when it was time for change again? Finding another existence—again without my sisters by my side—was too depressing to consider.

I buried my thoughts with restocking produce, pretending the monotony was soothing my uneasiness. After a while, my body protested faintly from lifting and standing, so I arched my back, pushing out my chest, stretching until my joints gave a satisfying crack. Nikki shot me a look of theatrical disgust.

“You’ll scare the customers bending like that.”

“They like the view,” I countered. “It’s good for business.”

She could roll her eyes, but it was still true.

That’s when I heard them—two caffeinated voices, just loud enough to grate on a last nerve.

“I’m telling you, meat is ancestral,” declared one woman, blonde and full of conviction. “It’s historical. Humans are predators. End of story.”

Her friend snorted through a powdered donut. “Mag, you’re delu-lu. Plants are the natural diet. Humane, sustainable, scientific. Besides, I sent you those articles, remember?”

The blonde waved her hand like she was swatting away a fly. “Whatever. We’re here now.”

I peeked over a display of radishes, curious despite myself. Both women were young, stylish, and armed with that peculiar mortal certainty that made them adorable and exhausting in equal measure. Humans arguing about food always amused me. For creatures that barely lived a century, they still didn’t know how to nourish themselves properly.

“Hey, young lady, these local?”

An older man in glasses held up a bunch of carrots in my face.

“Yes,” I said brightly, “all local, all organic, all mine.”

He frowned. “Even the passion fruit?”

“Except those.” I smiled. “Those are imported from Olympus.”

“Tomatoes look incredible too.” He chuckled. “Magic with those too, huh?”

“Call it a gift.”

“Love to see young people get serious these days. Back when I was younger…”

But I wasn’t really paying attention anymore.

A shift in the crowd caught my eye—a subtle ripple of unease that raised the hair on the back of my neck. Arguing voices again, deeper this time. Nikki noticed too; she looked at me and mouthed, Don’t.

But I was already moving toward the cluster of tangled threads causing the scene.

A swift peek was all I wanted.

The sound led me to the next stall over, where the food philosophers had upgraded their debate into a full-blown standoff with three men.

One was older, shorter, watchful. The second—tall, darker-skinned—stood broad-shouldered and flushed with anger. The third, partially obscured by a hat, radiated the kind of tightly coiled energy I hadn’t felt in ages.

I couldn’t even see his skin, let alone read his aura.

That never happened.

And then I saw the first one clearly. Beautiful. Absolutely, unfairly beautiful.

Even his threads were well made.

I paused mid-step, thinking how Narcissus’s roots would coil in jealousy.

A sigh escaped me, which snapped me out of my reverie. After checking to make sure Nikki didn’t catch me ogling the goods, the initial, awestruck gazing faded.

Irritating.

My interest died as quickly as it had come… his boyish mannerisms were just too young.

I may feel and look like I should be in my twenties, but I wasn’t young at all. The exact opposite. And in recent years I liked my eye candy slightly more mature—the kind that looked like they knew what mattered in life. Not that their life choices mattered to me.

I only watched their fleeting lives from a distance.

But the gods had never been so kind to a man. Longing passed in a low wave.

While my sister had dabbled with someone a while ago, I never had. No need to start a habit that would end in what they called heartbreak.

Mortal lives were just too short and obvious to bother.

I forced myself to pay attention again.

Ahead of me, the men towered over the women—they were even taller than me—voices rising. One of the girls started recording on her phone, her shaky hands betraying both alarm and excitement.

I stepped between them. “You boys planning to start a war over kale?”

The eye candy blinked at me as I brushed past, briefly resting a hand on both his and his friend’s arms as I slipped through. My energy flared—a small pulse meant to command obedience.

Instantly, he stepped back, his posture softening, apology flooding his expression.

“I’m sorry, miss,” he said quickly, his deep voice suddenly gentle. “We didn’t mean any trouble.”

“Good.” I smiled sweetly, eyeing the view one last time. “Go cool off.”

He obeyed, walking away before any of the others followed. The crowd murmured with approval.

Good. That’s one down.

Now that my distraction was gone, I looked at the remaining men—specifically the one I couldn’t read. The one still standing his ground.

Hold on—

My finger flew to my chin and began tapping as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.

Only one down? Why hadn’t the other two left?

Still not looking at him directly, I scanned the area, then his jacketed back, then the surrounding stalls—my tapping keeping its frantic rhythm the whole time.

Where were his threads?

His aura field was completely empty. No threads of any color.

Impossible.

My attention finally turned to him.

He’d removed his hat, revealing messy black hair and a diamond-shaped face kissed by sunlight. Skin weathered from the sun, eyes slanted sharp.

When his gaze found mine, my tapping stopped.

And for a moment, I forgot about the missing threads.

His energy pressed back against mine—not resisting, exactly, but meeting it. Matching it.

The rest of the market blurred into the background of this anomaly. His aura—because it held no threads—was bare. A blank space among the clashing patterns around him.

I blinked slowly at the vivid image in front of me.

“What just happened?” he asked, voice low and edged with suspicion—

—and the sound of it sent chills down the center of my back, rolling over my skin in slow waves.

I steadied my hands by fixing a strand of hair behind my ear.

Playing with my hair now? I might as well be a teenager—

I dropped my hands down and pulled myself together.

The older man beside him whispered in Korean, “Let’s go, son. This one isn’t like the others.”

But his son didn’t listen. Nor did he follow when the older man left.

“In a moment,” he called after him without turning around.

Then, to me: “Well, what did you do to him?”

My finger hovered in the air as I tried to form words, but none came out.

I snuck a glance back at Nikki, who—bless her timing—was facing away from me.

The break gave me enough space for my thoughts to catch up.

Taking far too long to answer, I finally whispered, “He decided to be reasonable,” the words barely audible through my distraction.

Who was this man? What was he?

Because his aura was blank, I could see him so clearly. Crystal-sharp—no threads getting in the way of what I was seeing.

He tilted his head, studying me back with equal curiosity. “Is that what you call it? No—you did something to him. I know it.”

I didn’t register his words. I looked behind him again, fully expecting to see his threads this time—discovering they’d simply tucked themselves away.

Nothing.

He didn’t feel supernatural.

But he couldn’t be just a man. No human existed without threads. It was how our system worked. Deviation from the system did not—and should not—happen.

“Maybe he just recognized good advice,” I said automatically, still not paying attention to our actual conversation.

I circled him slowly, the tapping resuming its pace, looking at him from all angles.

“What are you looking for?”

“Threads.”

“What are threads?”

“Nothing. Forget about it.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

His attention roamed slowly down my body—not lewd, just… deliberate. Like he was memorizing me.

I should have left then, figured it out later.

But curiosity wouldn’t let me drop it.

Instead, I stepped closer and lowered my voice. “What are you?”

“Excuse me?”

Looking around, I noticed we still had a crowd. Answers would have to wait.

“Forget about that too… for now. You need to go.”

“I don’t think I’ll be forgetting you anytime soon.” His mouth curled, like he found that idea pleasing. “And this is my stall.”

He motioned toward the meat stand behind us. The sign overhead read: Cherry Lee Farms: Organic Pastured Meats & Cheeses.

“You leave.”

A human giving me an order?

The very fact sparked a fire in my chest. Threads or no threads, respect was due.

The sudden tension between us crackled—literal electricity humming in the air. Somewhere behind us, the women were still filming.

“I don’t think so, Cherry Lee.” The tip of my painted fingernail pressed against his chest. If he wasn’t human, he would be able to feel the real threat—because whatever he was, he could never be more powerful than me. “You’re making a scene; you better go. Now.”

He caught my hand—not roughly, but with the steady pressure of someone used to control.

His warmth spread up my arm, and for a heartbeat, I forgot how to breathe.

“Maybe it’s you who’s making a scene,” he said, voice slipping into a teasing drawl. “You came to me, remember.”

“Oh, I remember. I came because you fools were acting like children.”

“I think you should listen to her, Cherry Lee,” one of the women mocked with a flirtatious giggle… were they enjoying this confrontation?

The man’s expression morphed from teasing to pissed off.

To make the women leave, I smiled brightly and turned to them, using the moment to slip my hand free.

“Hey… I guess these meat guys didn’t like your vegan jokes, huh? Whatever—let’s forget them.” I guided them gently by the shoulders, steering them toward the bakery truck. “How about I buy you another round of that coffee you seem to like? Go tell them Nikki said she’ll cover it. And grab another donut while you’re at it.”

They did as I suggested and walked immediately in that direction.

Nice. At least they knew how to act.

Smiling to myself, I turned toward my last problem.

My last problem was currently staring me down, his attention now focused solely on me… or, more accurately, my backside.

I caught his gaze admiring me from behind—and he didn’t even look embarrassed.

I raised my eyebrow. He ignored my questioning look and asked instead, “What are you doing to them? I’ve tried to get them to leave multiple times. It’s never that easy.”

His interested look turned suspicious as his eyes narrowed. “Are you working with them?”

“Working with them? No… I don’t even know them.” I glanced back to make sure they’d made it to the baker’s truck. Yup. All clear.

“You did… something to them. My brother wouldn’t have just walked away like that. Neither would those two idiots.”

“Well, maybe he has better sense than you.” I lifted a shoulder. “Or maybe I sprinkled him with purple pixie dust—the kind used to cast spells on poor victims. You should go check on him, you know… make sure he’s okay.”

I motioned for him to shoo.

He didn’t.

Instead, he crossed his arms and planted his feet. “Like I said, I’m not going anywhere. You came over here. You leave.”

“Not buying the dust idea, huh?” I exhaled sharply. “Look, I came over to stop you boys from bullying those poor women.”

An invisible pull drew me nearer, and my finger—guided by its own will—extended toward his chest again. I snatched it back, dreading a repeat of his prior grasp.

“It was the right thing to do,” I added, “and now you need to leave as well.”

Even the air of his aura felt different without the threads—its density made my skin tingle. I wanted to reach into it again.

His lips pulled into a crooked grin, and he stepped closer.

I felt the warmth from his body even from this distance, and I couldn’t help remembering how his hands felt on mine.

I was never touched.

“Us boys, huh…” he repeated out loud, more to himself than to me. “Those poor women, yeah?”

Like he was testing the words, rolling them around to see if they fit.

He didn’t seem dense, but since I couldn’t read his threads, I couldn’t be sure.

“Yes,” I said, firm. “Only little boys behave like you.”

Come on. Why wasn’t he listening?

Pooling energy, I pressed fear into him, urging him to run in terror…

Nothing.

He wasn’t responding to any of my inspiration. I was getting nowhere with this human. I needed to consult Lachesis about the issue with my coercion, hoping she might shed light on what was happening.

Or at least she’d know why he didn’t have threads.

He took another step closer, his eyes studying mine. He didn’t seem to have an issue with eye contact.

“Stop staring at me like that. I am only trying to protect these people.”

“You are protecting those women?” He laughed suddenly—

—and my eyes darted to his lips on their own.

A small smirk said he noticed where my gaze went. I directed my attention downward, but a slow burn had started at my collarbone, radiating up my neck and scorching my cheeks. A bead of sweat pricked my forehead, entirely out of place for me.

I did not sweat.

The silence of his missing threads suddenly felt too loud. I didn’t look up, instead staring intently at the concrete at our feet, wishing I could shrink small enough to slip through one of the cracks.

When I looked at him again, his grin slowly grew to a full smile… and it was a pleasant one. Unfairly pleasant. His lips looked soft.

Two attractive males back-to-back…

I was either being blessed or cursed.

Most likely cursed.

“Yes,” I said, finding my voice again. “They needed protection from you.”

He drew closer, invading my personal space under the pretense of sharing a secret. The air between us sizzled with invisible energy that chased tingles across my skin and a shiver down my spine—one I resisted by keeping my eyes wide open.

He was too close.

And what was that smell?

Cologne. Very light. Like vanilla.

Dear Goddess…

Unlike the other one, this one was older. More mature. More… dangerous to my composure.

And I couldn’t read him. Not his essence, not his edges.

He was a mystery.

His breath warmed my ear as he murmured, soft as sin, “Perhaps it’s you who needs protecting.”

A pause—deliberate.

“Or,” he continued, voice dipping lower, “you could learn to mind your business, and you wouldn’t get caught in these situations…”

Then he added, with a quiet huskiness that made my blood turn traitorous—

“Little girl.”

He turned and walked back to his stall, leaving me open-mouthed and utterly speechless.

Little girl?

The insolence of this man.

If he knew who I was, he would bow, not bicker.

Little girl.

I had the briefest thought to show him—show the market—who they were standing in front of. I closed my fist to hide my hands from view and counted backward, swallowing the spark of anger before it could take root.

Stomping down on the power surge that burned at the surface of my skin.

No matter how tempting, I wouldn’t let this man—whoever he was—jeopardize this current identity.

Well. At least he finally left.

That should have been enough.

It wasn’t.

I narrowed my eyes at the sign above his stall again. No one disrespected a goddess. The Greeks had known this better than anyone.

“If you don’t get back over here, right now!” Nikki shouted from behind our produce table—where people were idling in curiosity, waiting to be served, but more than happy to watch the scene.

I shook my head free from whatever spell this situation had cast on me, and the rush of the world came back into my awareness.

“What was that about??” Nikki pounced the moment I returned, and I started weighing carrots for the current customer without asking. “Why was he touching you? And why is your heart pounding like that?”

“I don’t know…”

“You don’t know…” Her jaw went slack. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know…”

“Why didn’t you back away?”

“I tried.”

“That weak attempt I saw you give? Really?”

“He caught me off guard, okay? My energy wasn’t working on him.”

His energy was doing a number on me, though.

She tossed oranges into a mesh bag a customer provided, looking at me like I’d sprouted a third eye. “Was he even human?” she whispered.

“I don’t know…”

“What?” She set the fruit down and lifted both hands in frustration. “Well, what do you know, then?”

You’d think the world was ending with how she was acting.

Then again… anyone would think that, if they knew someone like me didn’t know something like this.

The situation was terrifying. I comprehended that.

I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders, handing the man in front of me his bagged goods while taking his money.

“Well,” I said, voice light for the customer and lethal for Nikki, “I know, for starters, that boy needs to learn a lesson.”

I glanced past the crowd, toward the meat stall.

“He just tempted fate,” I added, sweetly, “and he doesn’t know how sorry he’s going to be.”

The horror on her face was priceless.

---

Cherry Lee?

If trouble had a face, it wore lipstick and had an attitude.

Those eyes. That mouth.

Fuck.

And what about her body? I groaned inwardly and let my head fall back against the seat. She appeared out of nowhere, turning my thoughts upside down. One minute I’m dealing with the idiot twins, and the next she’s standing in front of me—a colorful-eyed goddess barking orders like she owned the damn market.

There was something unique in her—and for the life of me, I couldn’t control my body’s reaction. Normally, I liked my women calm, kind, predictable.

Turns out I’d been lying to myself for years.

That fire of hers? It made control impossible. My body didn’t even pretend to help.

Something stupid flickered through me—bright and sharp and almost… amused.

Like a tiny spark of laughter tried to break loose, totally uninvited.

I clenched my jaw before any of it could slip out.

What the hell was that?

The situation wasn’t funny.

She was furious, gorgeous, untouchable—

and some part of me reacted like she’d told the best damn joke on earth and lit a fuse under my skin.

I shoved the feeling down hard, but it left a strange thrill buzzing through me.

A wrongness that felt weirdly right.

That was the moment I stepped closer.

Pathetic, really. I stepped closer to hide the obvious—to keep her from noticing exactly how much she’d gotten under my skin. The situation was embarrassing enough; no need to make it worse.

So I taunted her instead.

And the moment she bristled, I knew it worked—she was just as shaken as I was. That spark between us? Yeah, that wasn’t one-sided.

But somehow, knowing that only made everything worse.

“My man, you good?” Will’s voice yanked me back.

“Yeah,” I lied easily. “Thinking about those two pains in the ass.”

My younger brother chuckled. “Forget ‘em. Dad’s not losing sleep—neither should you.” He thumbed toward our father in the driver’s seat.

The old man was quiet—too quiet—hands gripping the wheel like it might take off without him. He’d been that way since the market. Like he was spooked.

Didn’t want to break it to my brother, but it did look like Dad was going to lose sleep tonight. He’d always been able to smell trouble before it hit. Maybe that’s where I got it from—the itch in my gut when something wasn’t right.

But what could he be worried about? Nothing we haven’t dealt with before.

Now that the farmer’s market was over, we were headed back home to the farm. Some work had to be done on the hog pen—fencing damaged by a fallen tree. We didn’t need the hogs to get loose, or predators to get in. Then me and Joker would have to hunt them down, one by one, and round them up.

“We’re skipping the market next week,” Dad announced. “We can afford to skip a few weeks.”

Dad never did two things: he never took a sick day, and he never skipped the market.

I frowned out the window, my thoughts wandering back to which of the women he was worried about—the one with the impossible eyes, or the others.

Probably all of them.

The thought of not seeing her again sat wrong.

No, it’s just curiosity, stupid. Nothing else.

Right.

I’d been around enough beautiful women to know looks didn’t matter past the beginning. But this woman—she’d gotten under my skin in seconds, and it would take longer to get her out.

My head nodded like I agreed with Dad’s call, but a bitter disappointment still settled in my chest like a stone.

I wouldn’t have minded seeing our brunette neighbor again.

Hell… I would’ve been looking forward to it.

When we were leaving for the day, I glanced at her stall. I saw her working beside another woman and briefly wondered if either of them was the Nona from the sign above their heads.

Without a doubt, it was her.

I don’t know how I knew it, but I did.

God, she was an enigma.

I flexed my fingers to ease the lingering tingle in my palms. I could Google her business info… see what I could find on her.

No.

Mentally squashing the stalker thoughts, I forced my mind onto something else. I needed a distraction. I’d take Joker for a hike after work. That always helped clear my head.

We pulled up to the farm, and I got straight to work. Work was therapy; it would clear my head.

But it didn’t.

One hour in and I’m still thinking of her.

What was wrong with me?

I wiped sweat from my forehead after hammering in the last post. Muscles screaming, but the fencing was good as new. In the distance, the hogs rooted around lazily. A sow and her piglets lay resting in the late-day sun while the guard dogs sat farther off, eyes peeled for threats.

It was peaceful.

Animals, like humans, need barriers to feel safe.

And if the hogs got out—or anything got in—the dogs would let us know.

I heaved the sledgehammer over my shoulder but left the rest of my tools where they were. The farm would manage without me for a bit. I hopped in my pickup, drove past the general store parking lot quick in case someone stopped me, gave a wave to a passing tour group, and took the back roads to my cabin.

Work usually had priority and often continued until late evening.

But I had a detour to handle.

I turned onto my section of the property, only a few dirt-covered miles from the store. Far enough to be away from people, close enough for family and work. The roads were bumpy and remote, but my pickup handled the rough terrain.

Serene and secluded, my cabin was the best part of taking over the family business. I designed and built it myself; construction finished about two months ago.

As soon as I opened the front door, a tri-color ball of energy launched itself at me. Black, brown, and white raced around my legs at a frenzied speed.

Barking and yelping like she’d been personally betrayed; Joker made her feelings clear about being left behind.

“Hey, girl… you missed me, yeah?” I grabbed her face once she calmed a little and rubbed behind her ears until she leaned all her weight into me, panting happily. “Sorry it took so long. I missed you too. Wanna go for a walk?”

The second I said walk, she bolted out the screened porch and into the woods, paws kicking up grass. I followed with a grin, leash in hand—just in case.

My cabin sat on a narrow strip of land that extended into a natural lake, water on three sides. What used to feel like a fantastic idea now made me nervous with Joker. Alligators showing up in that lake never crossed my mind when I built the place, but they arrived not long after we moved in.

She was fast—even for a Border Collie—but I wasn’t gambling with what lurked under the surface.

She was a lot like me.

Always circling, always guarding, never far from home. Loyal to the core.

And the thing about loyalty—once you give it, it’s bone-deep.

The trail smelled of wet earth. Crickets had already started their evening chorus, and somewhere far off, a bullfrog joined in. Joker darted ahead, tail a white flag in the fading light. When she got too close to the water, I whistled—one sharp note.

She spun on a dime, racing back with that tongue-lolling grin that always made me laugh.

I smiled as she got nearer. Daddy’s girl. My loyal companion, asking me for little.

The only female I needed in my life right now.

Family, land, work—that was enough.

Why complicate it?

I shook the thought off. “Yeah, forget about that woman,” I muttered, tossing a stick for Joker to chase. “She’s probably nothing but trouble anyway.”

Still, would it really hurt to talk to her? She was just a woman after all. There was no harm in talking to one. I didn’t have to tell her all my secrets.

Right?

This controlled my attention. Go get her—no leave her alone….

Trouble had a scent, and my thoughts were coated in it like perfume.

Every instinct in me—the same ones that keep my family, my land, and my dog safe—told me to just walk away. It wasn’t for me. But if I believed that, then why were those same instincts wanting me to go find her anyway?

Lots of questions but the strangest part?

A low whisper, behind the thoughts, said that if I didn’t rein in my indecision,

I could be a fucking dead man.

To be continued in next chapter… New Chapters released weekly.

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