Chapter 81: That Was Definitely Not Her Panther

Edrik held her with his good arm beneath her knees and the other supporting her back. Dove wanted to remind him about the cut, but lifting her head took too much effort.

"Your arm," she managed anyway, because she had not spent yesterday bandaging him for nothing.

"It’s holding," he said. "Let me worry about carrying you."

He moved behind the loading block while Thorne met the man forcing the gate. Dove heard the crowbar strike metal, then a sharp grunt. She tried to look around Edrik’s shoulder, but he turned so the concrete remained between her and the fighting.

Edrik checked the warehouse’s open side bay, which led to an orchard road behind the building. He called the exit back to Thorne, then kept Dove behind the concrete while her mate finished at the gate. He didn’t ask her to explain the missing equipment bin.

She was grateful enough for that to stop trying to hold herself upright. Her cheek settled against Edrik’s shirt, and a different scent filled the small space around her face.

He smelled of burnt honey and whiskey, warm and faintly sweet, with something sharper beneath it that made her want another breath before she understood why.

That was definitely not Thorne. Her mate smelled familiar in a way she no longer needed to name. This was new, and the chest beneath her cheek felt wider than the one she usually borrowed.

She shifted closer because she was tired and he was keeping her off the cold ground. His heartbeat stumbled under her ear, then sped up so clearly that she opened her eyes a little.

"Dove," he said softly. "Careful. Let me get you comfortable."

Sprout nearly shouted inside her head. "Elevated heart rate, increased interest, affection, happiness, and significant physical attraction. Two fresh Favor Coins earned. This is a highly promising development."

Nine hundred fourteen flashed behind her eyelids; the other notices were only Sprout getting carried away. Dove squeezed her eyes shut. "What the fuck, Sprout? He carried me. He didn’t propose. Stop announcing every thought his pants might be having." The system continued sounding delighted, but she refused to let it turn the steady arms around her into another sales pitch.

Edrik adjusted his hold and looked toward the exit instead of down at her. His breathing settled slowly. When she loosened her hand, he caught her glove before it slipped off and tucked it into her coat pocket.

He hadn’t asked her to smile, explain, or be less trouble. He had simply noticed what she needed. Dove kept her hand against his shirt, allowing herself that comfort without trying to make it smaller.

Thorne reached them with his knife cleaned and put away. The attacker at the gate did not follow. The wolf and the knife carrier had fled toward the abandoned buildings. Thorne brought the fallen handgun. Edrik nodded toward his pack, and Thorne put it inside while the bear kept holding her. Edrik asked whether they had looked back, and the quiet interest in the question made Dove glad Thorne had already checked the exit.

Dove tried to sit up at the sound of her mate’s voice. Thorne touched her cheek and told her she could stay where she was until they had cleared the yard.

"You sure?" Edrik asked him, his hold staying steady while Dove waited to find out whether they were going to complicate being helpful.

"She’s safe with you," Thorne said, then looked directly at Dove. "Unless you want me."

She wanted Thorne, but she also wanted both men to stop making being carried complicated.

"I’m okay here," she whispered. "You’re both allowed to make one thing easy today."

Thorne’s mouth softened. He kissed her forehead and went ahead to check the path while Edrik carried her behind him.

Dove counted the turns over Edrik’s shoulder, determined to remember their way out. His arm held her steady when the track dipped.

They stopped in an empty orchard packing shed where the road could be watched from a narrow window. Thorne checked both doors before anyone settled. Edrik lowered Dove onto a folded blanket, but her hand remained caught in his shirt for a moment.

She let go when she noticed. He stayed crouched beside her while Thorne unpacked their food. Chicken, tortillas, and peaches made a quick meal without lighting a fire beside a road they had just escaped. He filled three wraps before opening the fruit, then sat close enough to catch anything her tired hands dropped.

Sprout waited until she asked before reporting on the equipment bin. Everything nonliving inside had arrived with it. She needed food, rest, and time before attempting anything heavy again.

"Then stop suggesting such impressive ways to fall over," she muttered. Thorne understood who she meant and handed her a thick chicken wrap without making her explain again.

She ate slowly. Edrik checked his bandage, showing her that it had stayed dry. Carrying her had pulled at the arm, he admitted, but it had not reopened the cut.

Thorne sat on her other side and flexed his hand. He looked tired after the fight, but his fingers stayed steady around the water bottle.

Edrik watched the movement. "That other panther could barely move your latch. You barely slowed down. You needed more recovery for a smaller job at Milepost."

"Panthers shape metal, but that doesn’t make us equally good at it," Thorne said. "Polar bears reinforce it, but most couldn’t hold a door through that shooting. Dove also makes sure I go to bed."

Dove almost choked on a bite of chicken. His hand settled at her back while Edrik considered the answer without appearing to understand the part that had amused her.

Inside her head, Sprout offered an explanation she had not requested. Her bond with Thorne was improving his endurance through their private intimacy. The changes built gradually rather than arriving as a fresh, unlimited reserve after every kiss.

She appreciated stronger protection considerably more than Sprout’s interest in her bedroom.

"Good," she told it quietly. "You can keep the helpful result and stop sounding so involved."

Thorne knew better than to ask until they were alone. Edrik passed her more water. When her loose hair brushed his wrist, he paused, drawing a slow breath before handing the bottle over. "Eyes on the road, bear," she murmured. He looked toward the door, smiling as though she had offered something much nicer than an instruction.

By the time they were ready to move, Dove could sit without the world tilting. She still needed carrying. Edrik was nearest when she reached for support, and his arms came around her before he glanced at Thorne.

Her mate checked the path while Dove settled against Edrik. Her exercise task could wait. Rest carried no penalty.

Edrik stood with her, then stopped when she curled her fingers in his shirt. "Don’t hand me back just because he’s looking," she murmured. Thorne was looking, but he only held the door. Edrik’s arm tightened enough to steady her, and Dove realized she had just asked for something neither man was going to let her pretend she hadn’t wanted.