Page 122 of When the Smoke Clears

I won’t lose her again. I’ll drag her back myself if I have to.

The dog snuffles, nose twitching as it locks onto something. Its ears shoot forward, body straining like a taut wire. The handler tucks the shirt into a bag and glances up.

“Dog’s got it.”

The search party fans into the trees, rifles slung, boots sinking into the dirt. Dogs tug on leashes, breath misting in the cold air. My pulse pounds as we move, slipping into formation. The forest folds around us, its silence heavy, every step crunching like a gunshot.

The leader halts suddenly, hand raised. Instantly, the line freezes. The world narrows to breath and heartbeat. My ears strain, waiting.

At first, there’s only the whisper of leaves and the stirrings of creatures waking. Then, faint and broken, almost swallowed by the wind, comes a sound—a whimper. My chest seizes. But my bones recognize it.

Isla.

The dog barks, sharp and urgent, the noise ricocheting off the trees like a flare. My eyes cut to Gabe’s, reading the same recognition there. We’re close.

We surge forward, crashing through underbrush, urgency shredding any hope of stealth. Dalton flanks my left with his shotgun, Chase to my right, gripping Nathaniel’s hunting rifle, and Gabe covering the rear.

The trees break open into a clearing—the air shifts—wide, unshielded, exposed. The dog lunges ahead, barking madly, a siren tearing the quiet apart.

And then I see them.

And the bottom drops out of my world.

CHAPTER 30

ISLA

No!

I dig my nails into my palms until skin breaks, until pain burns loud enough to drown out the whisper that says give up. I had almost accepted this fate, but I can’t let resignation take root.

Nathaniel has already taken so much—my mother, my sense of home, the pieces of Luke I can never have back. He doesn’t get my faith, either.

Luke will save me. Luke will save me.

My eyes squeeze shut, chest tight as a bowstring pulled to breaking. In the silence, I retreat into memory. Last night—Luke’s arms around me, his warmth, his steady heartbeat. The scent of him, citrus and musk, wraps me in safety.

Then everything fractures.

Boots pounding. Dogs barking. Rifles clicking into place. Men shouting directions through the trees.

The forest explodes with motion.

My eyes fly open.

Luke bursts into the clearing first. Behind him: Gabe, Dalton, Chase, a few deputies, and handlers with German Shepherds pulling at their leashes. Their breaths puff white clouds into the cold air.

Relief buckles my knees.

A strangled sob escapes as my head drops forward, tears streaking down my face and dripping into the frozen dirt beneath me.

He found me.

When I lift my gaze, Luke’s eyes lock onto mine—green fire wrapped in fury, fear, and a vow that shakes me to my core.

“Luke,” I whisper, barely a breath.

His jaw tightens. “Did he hurt you?”