I don’t even have the door closed before Derry’s rifling through my underwear drawer. There’s a vibration associated with his active brain wave surfing. While subtle, it’s different than his innate ability to hear thoughts, which comes sans identifier. Brain wave surfing is when he pries for things not readily available. I’m not a fan of his ant army.

“Slow down, Hotshot,” I chastise him. “Give me a chance to tell you before you go pulling things out. I appreciate your curiosity, but you have to trust I’ll always tell you what I’m thinking.”

“Sorry, that’s a daily struggle.”

“What?”

He sighs. “Waiting.”

I point to my attire. “Does that mean you aren’t willing to wait long enough for me to get dressed? Can I at least get shoes?”

He smirks. “If you hurry.”

I’m inside and out in a flash, bringing the barter basket with me. “Fast enough for you?”

“You, Sweetheart, are worth every impatient moment.”

Sparks heat my cheeks.

“Off to supplement Brody?”

I nod. Guess he did extract something. “We probably should’ve brought Barry. He could’ve held him down.”

As we pull out of the driveway, preparing to embark on a potential battle, I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side. I slide my hand into the one he reaches across the console. Of course he’s supporting me. Sometimes, Derry knows me better than I know myself.

My fire fuel reservoir is full by the time we get to the cabin. I knock on the front door before stepping back to pace the length of the cedar porch. It’s midmorning, and Brody’s an early riser. He generally makes my morning runs with me. The eerie silence from inside is shiver-inducing.

“Open up,” I demand, folding my hands into my heated armpits.

After a two-minute wait that feels like hours, Derry offers, “You, of all people, don’t need an invitation.”

“Right.” I prepare to ram the door.

Derry does the logical thing and tries the handle. It’s unlocked. He shakes his head. I shrug.

The living room is dark. Despite the small size, it still looks barren. Nothing was taken, but the absence of his team leaves an emptiness that tugs at my heartstrings.

The mattress creaks in the back bedroom, and I cringe. The last Sumair I saw on that bed was in complete and total misery. Connor. I shuffle my feet quietly to the door while Derry makes himself cozy on the couch. He’s giving me the personal space I need to get the draw on Brody.

Brody’s curled up in a tight ball, the short blanket doing little to cover his massive frame. There are zero personal belongings here. Comfort items weren’t a necessary added travel weight. That needs rectifying.

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Phelan, Molly, and Connor are getting back on course, but they left Brody behind as a safety measure. I gave them ample proof of what would happen if left to my own devices. That meant leaving Brody behind to pick up the slack. I’m not complaining about not having to give him up. I’m just sore over the price he’s paying to stay. It’s time to offset that hefty fee. While he won’t take any handouts, there has to be a way to talk him into accepting a service fee for his perpetual protection.

I rub light circles with my thumbs and index fingers, nervously chewing my lip as I approach the bed. How long has it been since he’s rested peacefully? I want to offer him the same insulation they’ve all given me. He deserves that.

A floorboard creaks, and he jolts up instantly, sneering when he spots me. “What do you want?”

“Just checking in.” I give him my best not-trying-to-persuade-you-into-supplementation smile. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone.”

“I happen to love the idea,” he grouses. “Go. Away.”

“You want me here,” I propose tentatively. “You just don’t realize it yet.”

“No,” he barks at me, his sleep-thick voice causing me to step back. “I really don’t.”

“Sort of cranky in the morning, aren’t you?”

“How did you even know they were leaving?”

“Midnight run.”

“You shouldn’t be running by yourself at night,” he spits more gravel at me.

“No, you shouldn’t,” Derry adds from behind me.

Nice. They’re back to teaming up on me. It’s admittedly better than Brody assuming we’re teaming up on him. Beggars can’t be choosers or something like that.

Brody’s emotions are so strong I can’t get a clean read on Derry’s. He wasn’t aware of my midnight run, either. Hot news headline: Unrepentant.

I hold out the basket. “Muffin?”

He lifts a brow. “What’ll it cost me?”

“Not much. Just some supplementation.”

“I’d rather starve.”

“You are starving. That’s why I’m here.”

He grunts.

“Suit yourself.” I grin before biting into a muffin.

I shamelessly moan while chewing, watching drool pool at the corners of his mouth. They tasted better the first time. This time? Ick factor max. With my energy in full reserve, I’m ingesting charcoal powder.

He tightens his jaw, his arms tremoring. “Not interested,” he lies.

“You need to eat,” I remind him.

He shrugs.

“What good are you like this?”

He clamps his arms tighter, trying to stop the shakes. “Your Vulcan mind tricks won’t work.”

“I haven’t laid a finger on you yet,” I mutter.

He growls.

“You’re thinking of Jedi mind tricks.”

He growls more enthusiastically, his rumbling chest joining the party.

“Let me help you.”

At the very least, I can relax him by creating a defensive bubble around his desire to consume my energy as I did for Derry last night. What are the long-term effects of abstaining from transfer? Can I permanently subdue withdrawal symptoms and free them from their addiction?

The method that worked with Connor is feeding Brody my fire energy, even if it’s only enough to keep his urges at bay. Then, he can effectively maintain his protective role over me without spending the majority of his time trying to mask his pain. That’s why Derry stayed in the living room. He sees right through the mask, too, and he’s maintaining a respectable distance lest Brody feels he’s being backed into a corner by both of us. Anyone will fight their way out of a corner. How can I gain Brody’s consent to let me help?

“We can do this one of two ways,” I state confidently.

Brody snarls. Yeah, full-on snarls like the bad boy wolf-bear he is. “Have I ever struck you as the kind of person to take the easy way?”

He’s stubborn. Maybe as stubborn as me. Twinning hard heads. Glorious. Well, no time like the present. He won’t cave willingly, so I don’t give him a chance to argue. I launch myself at him, knowing I’ll land in his arms. His protective directive mandates that. Bright side: he won’t drop me, and his hands will be occupied. It’s a smart move. Point to me.

I press my palms against his cheeks, immediately wishing I’d covered his mouth instead. Okay, maybe not his mouth, but definitely my ears. My eardrums rattle from the volume of his disapproving roar. It rumbles up his chest, escapes his throat, and ricochets off my forehead. He’s going to shift, the animal inside him finding the need to protect him...from me.

Suddenly, we’re both falling, and I don’t see a way to brace for impact. Will either of us survive the descent?