Page 137 of The Case of the Missing Love Stone

He arranges the bed around her, layering the familiar blankets first. Scarlet watches closely, correcting the angle of a pillow with one weak gesture. “Not there. It blocks the wall.”

Roman moves it without argument.

She directs him through every choice. The blue quilt at her feet. The softest blanket beneath her hips. Cooling cloths on the nightstand. Toys within reach but not scattered across the mattress. Water on both sides, because during her last heat, she knocked over the only bottle and cried for twenty minutes before crawling to the bathroom sink.

I don’t let my reaction show, but my alpha wants to howl at the wrongness of it. “When was that?” I ask.

“Last winter.”

“And you were alone?”

Her gaze drops to the blanket. “Always.”

Roman pauses with one of my shirts in his hands.

Scarlet looks between us.

The room fills with the weight of everything neither of us says.

I sit beside her and hold out my hand. She gives me hers.

“You aren’t this time.”

Her fingers thread through mine. “I’m beginning to understand that.”

Roman places my shirt near her pillow, then adds his beside it. Scarlet pulls both close, breathing cedar, cinnamon, and cardamom into her lungs. Her eyes flutter shut as a purr vibrates softly through her chest.

My alpha settles by degrees.

Roman brings over the thermometer. Scarlet accepts it, checks the display herself, and hands it to him.

“One hundred point nine,” he says.

“Log it.”

I secure the windows and check the camera feed while Roman helps Scarlet drink. The exterior sensors remain active. Tom has a deputy parked near the county road, and Callum’s crew installed a second camera angle from the neighboring property before nightfall.

My phone vibrates. Tom. I answer near the door.

“We got the repair yard warrant moving,” he says. “Earliest entry is morning. One more thing: Deputy Ruiz saw a motorcycle turn off Old County Nine toward the drainage road about twenty minutes ago. No plate.”

“Direction of travel?”

“Southbound, then lights out near the old access.”

My attention cuts toward the bedroom window. “Keep Ruiz off the drainage road,” I say. “No solo approach.”

“Already told him. We’re watching both ends.”

Scarlet shifts on the bed. Her eyes are open now, fixed on me. She heard enough.

“What happened?” Roman asks.

I end the call. “Motorcycle near the old access. Tom has units watching.”

Scarlet pushes herself upright, but a fresh wave rolls through her before she gets far. Her breath catches, and her thighs draw together beneath the blanket.

I cross the room and brace her shoulders. “You are not going out there tonight.”