The knock came again—slow, deliberate. Whoever was out there wasn’t just visiting. They were making a point.
I glanced between Sage and Tyler, my pulse in my throat.
“Who—” I started, but Sage cut me off with a sharp shake of her head.
“Stay here.”
Tyler stepped forward, putting himself between me and the door, his shoulders squared, the blanket Sage had thrown at him earlier now forgotten, hanging loose around his waist. His jaw flexed. “It’s him.”
Sage hesitated for a beat, then cracked the door open just enough for the storm’s chill to slip in.
Lightning flashed, and there he was—Alaric Price. His dark hair clung to his forehead, droplets tracking down his jaw like they didn’t dare stay there long.
“Evening,” he drawled, leaning one shoulder casually against the porch post, like
