"Eve, it's me - Ryker," Ray said, raising his hands quickly and stepping back. He wanted to give her a moment because she might not recognize him immediately in the darkness. Meanwhile, the rumble of thunder mingled with the howl of the storm.

A cool breeze brushed his legs and drew his attention away from Eve. Only now did he feel the wetness under his feet, which drew his eyes almost magnetically to the ground. His gaze followed the shimmering, watery tracks to the back door, which dangled on its hinges. Behind it, the rain drummed. But what worried him was inside the house: small puddles had formed on the floorboards.

Were they shoe prints?

"Ray?" Eve whimpered as he bent down and reached out for the print. Even without looking up, he could recognize the fear and panic in her much higher-pitched voice. And he immediately understood why: the prints on the floor were undoubtedly fresh. They could hardly be more than a few minutes old. Otherwise, the heat in the house would have dried them long ago. Ray's gaze fell on the front door. Whoever had been here had obviously been disturbed. Only... With what?

"Yeah, it's just me," he raised his voice reassuringly and got heavily to his feet. His gaze slid from the tracks back to the trembling, frightened young mother standing before him in the night kitchen. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,« he continued softly, carefully taking a step closer.

His throat felt dry as he slowly and deliberately raised his hands to place them on the frightened woman's shoulders. He immediately felt her tense up. But she didn't back away from him, at least not yet. Still, it hurt. Just a few hours ago, she would probably have thrown herself into his arms for support. Now, she didn't even look at him properly - as if she didn't know whether she would have to point the gun at him after all. She no longer trusted him. And that hit him like a shot straight to the heart.

"Evelyn. Please, I don't want to hurt you. I just want to help," he pleaded, rubbing her cold upper arms. "You were screaming, what happened?"

It was apparent he didn't mean the marks on the floor and the thudding of the slamming door. Those things might have been frightening, but the way Eve screamed, he realized something else must have happened. Something that had shaken her enough to make her drop the jug. It was a miracle that the scream hadn't woken Liam up.

Had the bloke been there again? Dylan or his mate? Had they frightened Eve or even attacked her?

"Someone was there,« the shaky voice confirmed his fears as Eve glanced at the door and then pointed to one of the kitchen windows. "Out there! V-in front of the window!"

As if a switch had been flicked, the muscles in his body tensed again. His gaze fixed on the door, which rattled against the frame again and was immediately pushed open by the wind. Ray wasted no more time.

"Please bring me the torch; it should be on the side table in the hallway," he asked Eve tensely. The young woman hesitated briefly, then hurried off and returned with the heavy lamp shortly afterward. At that moment, the argument and discord were forgotten and irrelevant.

"Stay here and don't move. If anything happens, call me. I'll go and check everything," he ordered, and the warm expression was gone from his features as soon as he turned away. The protective instinct rose like wood on the water's surface as he pushed past Evelyn and headed for the back door.

Outside, the wind beat against him. It tugged at his T-shirt, stinging his skin with the cold of the night as the door slammed shut behind him. With narrowed eyes, he tried to recognize something in the night through the veil of rain. Heavy raindrops soaked the dark cotton fabric of his clothes, which offered no protection against the storm, and were soaked within a few heartbeats.

Putting on sturdy shoes and a jacket would have been wiser before rushing outside. But ... he had no time and no head for that.

His hand clenched tighter around the metal as he flicked the switch, and the bright light beam broke through the darkness. It was the second night someone had been lurking outside the window, creeping through the bushes like a damn stalker, watching the cottage. It wasn't a good sign and planted a dark premonition in his stomach for some reason.

Was that Dylan? As wrong as he had misjudged his former mate, it didn't fit him now. Of course, as Seals, they had been thoroughly trained. They could stay in one place for hours and days or fight their way through forest and desert.

But all these strange gifts ... Was it really him? Dylan had sought out the confrontation at the door, fought with him...

Was he the type to sneak up on windows or break into the house in the middle of the night like a dirty stalker? For what reason?

'Maybe he snapped...' Ray thought, remembering all those missions that often left the human spirit teetering on the edge. Some men broke and snapped. It was possible. Or had Dylan hired someone to keep an eye on her? Someone who placed the presents and followed Eve?

The only question was, why?

Why all the effort? Especially in this weather?

Growling grimly like an irritated animal, Ryker took the stairs and trudged out into the night. After a few minutes, his shirt stuck to his skin, and his dark hair curled into thick strands.

The spindly branches stretched like claws into the black sky, bending and twisting in the harsh wind. His footsteps slapped against the sodden earth as he swiveled the torch back and forth. He only stopped in front of the window Eve had pointed to. You didn't need to be an expert to recognize the prints on the sodden earth. The profile had been washed out by the rain, of course, but the size and depth of the prints made it clear to Ryker that it had to be a man again.

Under the wet shadow of his beard, his jaw tightened, and his teeth clenched painfully as he aimed the lamp's light at the bushes at the edge of the clearing.

It was like last night—the same window. The damn spy was probably long gone. Still, he wanted to go around the house again and at least check the yard to be sure.

What the fuck was that all about? Was Dylan perhaps trying to scare Eve and somehow unsettle her with the help of this bloke so that she would throw herself into his protective, strong arms? The thought alone made his throat crawl with nausea, and he clenched his fist.

A blazing fire smoldered inside him: anger, frustration, and a protective instinct mixed into an explosive brew. Drawing the air into his lungs, he took a deep breath before stomping towards the shed. If he caught anyone, the bastard would have no mercy - he would literally set him on fire.

Shed, boathouse, cars, car park, garden, a lap around the house and the edge of the woods - Ryker searched everything meticulously, shining his light into every possible corner, and could already feel his toes tingling with cold as he climbed back up the steps to the porch.

Ryker shivered with cold as he pulled the door shut behind him and turned the key until the soft click sounded. Thick drops ran from his hair down his face, gathered in his beard and chin, and fell onto his chest. The fabric stuck to his skin like the day he had jumped into the lake for Liam. But without the icy wind, he immediately felt the cozy warmth of the house on his skin as he put the torch back on the small chest of drawers. At the entrance, he wiped his feet as best he could to avoid dragging all the dirt into the house.

When he returned to Kaylen, the kitchen light was turned on. He left damp marks on the dark parquet floor, similar to the intruder's.

The young woman stood at the counter before the kettle, restlessly tapping her upper arm. He could see the tension in her limbs, and she flinched when she heard his footsteps. The redhead whirled around as if she expected someone in this house to just walk in on her, and Ryker's eyebrows raised a little at the sight of the knife in her fingers. He immediately raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"It's just me."

Her wide, frightened eyes slid over him, and it seemed to take a heartbeat or two before he heard her suck the air deeper into her lungs. and put the knife away.

"Ray."

The air seemed to crackle with tension and was almost so thick you could have cut it with your bare hands. Her gaze rested on him so nervously and uneasily that he could not speak the grim facts.

"There were footprints in the mud outside the window," he finally sighed and hesitantly stepped up to the kitchen counter. His features were as gloomy as the weather outside the window. "And this was on the coffee table..." He pulled a small present out from behind his back as he said this.

It was larger than the previous ones and measured over 40 centimeters, more than a forearm's length, but flatter. Like some other unexpected gifts, it was wrapped in yellow paper. Slightly softened by the rain, a yellow box of sturdy cardboard appeared underneath. As if the person in front of the window and the box weren't reason enough to worry, a small label was also attached to the bow.

"𝔽𝕆𝕌ℕ𝔻 𝕐𝕆𝕌"

was written on it in black letters that stood out against the yellow background like a piece of coal in the white snow.

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he found it easier to suppress the trembling that had taken hold of his muscles. This time, it wasn't necessarily the cold but the anger boiling inside him again. When he had discovered the damn thing on the table, he had briefly toyed with the idea of (once again) simply throwing it in the bin. But he had already hidden too much from Kaylen, learned his lesson, and didn't want to tarnish his honest remorse by repeating the same mistake.

Although he knew that it wouldn't ease her panic, there was no point in keeping the truth from her. Nevertheless, the discovery weighed heavily on his mind. Dylan had barely been gone a few hours, and already the next piece of crap was ... No, not even outside the door, but inside the house this time.

Ryker saw Eve's lips quiver and then form a thin line as she approached to inspect the package. The color seemed to drain even more from her features, and she looked unhealthily pale, so he instinctively took a step closer.

Her hand slipped into her reddish curls, pushing them behind her ear.

"So I wasn't mistaken ... He was in our house..." he heard the soft murmur and saw her fingers clutch the counter's edge tighter. But even so, Eve couldn't hide the trembling that shook her shoulders. Her eyes were fixed on the box and the black letters that could have come straight out of a scary stalker film.

A few heartbeats passed, and then Ray nodded slowly.

"Yeah... Someone was here," he hesitantly agreed with her.

But Eve didn't hear him because she turned away abruptly. She retraced her steps from the kitchen into the living room.

"That bloody bastard! I swear I'll throw this bloody box at Dylan's stupid head if he dares to step foot on this property again!" the young woman hissed, and Ryker couldn't help but duck his head a little under the rumble of thunder, which was almost louder in here than outside.

Although her fright and tension were visible, there was something else that he had not often experienced in the time he had spent in the cottage: blazing anger.

Granted ... the thought might be stupid, but he was glad that this time, the anger wasn't directed at him. They found common ground in that anger, and Ryker hoped he might get a chance to talk to her after all ... once the tension had eased.