"Well, he’s certainly committed," Aunt May drawled, her voice dripping with amusement as she watched the SUV disappear down the gravel drive. Her smirk widened as she added, "Though I have to wonder where he thinks he’s goin’. Does he not see the gates? Locked tighter than a miser’s coin purse."
Caelin barely registered her aunt’s quip. Her entire focus was tethered to Samuel, his frantic thoughts pouring through their tie like a flood threatening to drown her. His panic was palpable, a chaotic mess of desperation and spiraling terror that made it hard to separate her emotions from his.
She took a steadying breath, her lips pressing into a thin line. "He’s not thinking straight," she muttered, her voice low but tight with worry. "I need to stop him before he hurts himself."
Without wait
