Chapter 0083

The scent of jasmine hits me the moment I step onto the Sinclair property for morning training. Stronger than yesterday. Theron rumbles in approval inside me - our girl is close, and she's safe.

Grant Sinclair runs us through brutal drills like a Marine Corps instructor. "Move those pansy asses!" he barks, making warriors twice his size flinch. I bite back a grin imagining Evelyn calling him out for his language. My fierce little guardian would never complain about training, though.

For the first hour, I help Blackthorn warriors through obstacle courses. Then comes my favorite part - Evelyn's signature takedown sequence. One by one, I drop every warrior in the yard. Improvement shows in my fluid movements. Soon, I'll be ready to spar with her properly.

As Grant debriefs the group, prickling awareness crawls up my spine. There. Second-floor window. Evelyn's golden eyes lock onto me before she ducks behind the curtain. Too late - I caught her watching. My lips curl as I wink at the glass. Let her see me using her techniques. Our warriors never stood a chance.

School drags like molasses. All I can think about is finally seeing her after classes. Her textbooks and assignments wait in my trunk, carefully organized. I drop Donovan home before heading straight to the Sinclair residence.

Knocking brings no answer.

Silence.

My pulse spikes. I reach out with enhanced hearing - no heartbeats, no rustling clothes. Empty.

Theron snarls as panic claws up my throat. Did Victor Blackwood somehow breach our borders? Did her recovery take a turn?

"Father," I mind-link, voice tight. "The Sinclairs aren't home."

Alistair Grey's calm washes over me. "Bloodwork at Whitmore's clinic. Grant mentioned IV fluids and vitamins while waiting for results. They left two hours ago."

Relief unknots my shoulders. Safe. She's safe. "Update me when you hear?"

"Of course. Grant says she's stronger every day."

I leave her materials on the porch swing where she'll find them. The notebook in my glove compartment holds a fresh page. My pen hovers.

Dearest Evelyn,

Planned to see your beautiful face today. Instead, I'll imagine you rolling your eyes at this note.

Brought your schoolwork - not because I think you're bored (you are), but because I know how much your education matters. Even recovering, you'd never fall behind.

Miss your sharp tongue more than your smile. And that's saying something.

Yours,

Adrian

P.S. Theron says Selene owes him a rematch.

The paper smells faintly of my cologne when I tuck it between her textbooks. Let her wonder if that was intentional.