Page 22 of Guarded By the Bigfoot
“And in that time, we’ve developed specialized equipment specifically designed to handle Veil anomalies.” Her eyes flashed with determination. “The Elite Team is trained and equipped for this. You’re being stubborn and overprotective.”
The monitoring crystal pulsed again, more urgently. Time was running out. I caught her shoulders, meeting her fierce gaze.
“Listen to me. No amount of special equipment will help. The Elite Team would be slaughtered. The Dreadnull is not just some rogue entity that your tech can contain. It’s ancient, powerful, and right now, desperate. That makes it more dangerous than anything your team has ever faced.”
“Let me help you,” she pleaded, her hands clenching in my shirt. “We’re stronger together. This has to mean something.”
“This burden has been mine alone for centuries. There is no backup. No replacement if I fail.” I pulled her close, breathing in her scent. “If anything happened to you...”
She pushed against my chest, but not hard enough to break free. “Please, Brock, don’t.”
The crystal’s pulsing increased, casting red shadows across the room. Outside, the wind picked up, carrying the scent of dark magic. I pressed my forehead to hers, letting her feel everything through our bond. My love, my fear, my determination.
“I have to try,” I whispered against her lips. “Not just for Mystic Ridge, but for you. For us. For everyone. You have to leave.”
Her hands pressed against my chest, anger and fear radiating through her grip. “You can’t just order me away like this!”
“I’m not asking, Parker.” My voice came out in a low growl, frustration making my control slip. “You need to leave the mountain. Now.”
“The hell I will!” She stepped closer, defiant even as I towered over her. “I’m not some helpless civilian you can shuffle off to safety.”
The windows rattled with another surge of energy, making my fur bristle. I grabbed her shoulders, gentle despite my rising temper.
“This isn’t about your capabilities. This is about power you can’t possibly understand.”
“You’re wrong.” She shoved against my chest, her eyes flashing. “You expect me to just walk away while you sacrifice yourself?”
“Yes!” The word came out as a roar, echoing off the walls.
I felt her heart breaking, felt her rage and fear and desperate need to protect me. But I couldn’t yield. Not on this.
11
PARKER
The silence pressed down after he left. I stood there, trembling, my fists clenched at my sides.
Damn him. Damn his noble intentions and his protective instincts. Damn the way he made me feel, like I finally belonged somewhere, only to push me away.
I paced the room, my boots making soft thuds against the wooden floor. The morning light streaming through the windows seemed too bright, too cheerful for the storm raging inside me. Everything in the room reminded me of him—the carved furniture, the subtle humming in the walls, even the lingering scent of musk that seemed to follow him everywhere.
My training told me to leave, to follow orders, and retreat to safety. But something deeper, something that had nothing to do with ARC protocols and everything to do with the strange connection we shared, kept me rooted in place.
I’d spent my whole life building walls, protecting myself from this kind of attachment. My past taught me that connection meant pain, that love was temporary. ARC had given mepurpose, structure, a way to channel my need to protect others without risking my heart.
Until Brock.
He’d crashed through my defenses, not with force, but with quiet strength and loyalty. Even now, pushing me away, he did it out of love. A realization that twisted inside me.
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. I couldn’t just stand here while he prepared to sacrifice himself. I had to try one more time to make him see reason.
I found him in the control room, hunched over a crystal array, his massive frame tense as he studied the swirling patterns of energy. The machines hummed with power, displaying readings I recognized from my ARC training, but these were far more advanced than anything we had.
“I told you to leave,” he said without turning around, his voice rough.
“I’m sorry.” I stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. “Brock, please. Look at me.”
He turned slowly, his eyes revealing a pain I hadn’t expected. I felt his desperate need to protect me warring with an equally powerful desire to keep me close.
