Chapter 2 — Summit Ridge Shadows
Caleb
The snow crunched under Caleb Thorne’s boots as he approached Summit Ridge Lodge, his breath forming fleeting clouds in the frigid mountain air. The sharp bite of pine and frost mingled with a faint, elusive scent that stirred something ancient within him. It wasn’t just the cold sharpening his senses—there was a thread of something else hidden beneath the familiar smells of the wilderness. His amber eyes flicked toward the darkening horizon, where heavy clouds churned ominously, the promise of a storm thick in the air.
His grip tightened on the leather strap of his duffel bag, the worn material creaking softly under his fingers. The lodge rose before him, an imposing structure of timber and stone silhouetted against jagged peaks. Its grandeur was undercut by an air of secrecy, the kind of place where power shifted hands in whispers rather than declarations. Caleb knew its history well—neutral ground for dealings that thrived on isolation and discretion. It had always carried a tension he couldn’t ignore, and tonight was no exception.
A flicker of movement at one of the frost-rimmed windows caught his attention. A figure stood just inside, backlit by the warm, golden glow of the lodge’s interior. Harper Ellison.
Even at this distance, her presence was unmistakable. Shoulders squared, head held high, the faint tilt of her chin making her defiance almost palpable. Her tailored coat, sleek and precise, hugged her lean frame, projecting control and professionalism. But beneath that polished exterior, Caleb sensed something else—a subtle, unidentifiable undercurrent that wasn’t entirely human.
His jaw tightened, instinct tugging at the edges of his calm. He pushed the lodge’s heavy door open, stepping into a rush of warmth. The mingling scents of woodsmoke, polished leather, and faint traces of old pine enveloped him. The muted crackle of the stone fireplace filled the vaulted space, its light casting shifting shadows along the timber walls. Staff moved efficiently, their steps muted by thick rugs, their expressions a careful blankness that spoke of discretion. Caleb nodded briefly to one of them, a familiar face from his past dealings here, their silent acknowledgment a reminder of the unspoken rules of this place.
Harper turned at the sound of the door closing, her piercing gray eyes locking onto him. For a moment, the room itself seemed to recede, the charged energy between them tangible.
“Mr. Thorne,” she greeted, her voice smooth and clipped, with an edge that hinted at impatience. “I take it you’re the one who summoned me here.”
Caleb set his bag down near the door, shrugging off his jacket with deliberate ease. “Summoned?” he echoed, his tone low and calm, though his amusement didn’t reach his eyes. “I’d call it an invitation. I’m glad you accepted.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, skepticism flickering across her face. “An unlisted message with cryptic instructions isn’t my idea of an invitation.”
The faintest smile curved his mouth, though it was more reflex than warmth. “Sometimes the unconventional approach is the most effective. And it worked, didn’t it?”
Her gaze sharpened, sweeping over him with a clinical precision that felt like a scalpel. “Why am I here, Mr. Thorne?” she asked, crossing her arms in a gesture that was both deliberate and defensive.
“Caleb,” he corrected evenly. “And you’re here because we have a mutual problem.”
She arched a brow, her silence pressing him for more. She wasn’t going to give anything away—not until she had more information. Smart.
He gestured toward the lounge area near the fireplace. “Let’s sit. This isn’t a conversation to have standing in the doorway.”
Her hesitation was brief, her eyes narrowing as if weighing the risk, but then she moved past him with brisk efficiency. Caleb followed, his attention momentarily caught by the pendant she wore—a simple teardrop of silver, its swirling patterns catching the firelight. For a fraction of a second, the patterns seemed to shift, almost pulse. Something primal stirred deep within him, a pull he couldn’t explain but couldn’t dismiss. His hand brushed against the cool metal of his alpha ring, grounding himself as he forced his instincts to settle.
Harper chose the edge of a leather armchair, her posture rigid, every movement calculated. Caleb sank into the seat opposite her, leaning back with a casual ease that belied the tension simmering beneath the surface.
“I’ll be direct,” she began, her tone slicing through the quiet. “My company’s been sabotaged, and I intend to find out who’s behind it. If you have information, I suggest you share it now.”
Caleb studied her, tilting his head slightly. There was steel in her voice, but he caught the faintest flicker of unease beneath the surface. “I do have information,” he said slowly, deliberately. “But first, I need to know what you’re willing to risk to protect your work.”
Her gray eyes narrowed, a spark of defiance lighting them. “Everything.”
The word echoed between them, heavy with conviction. Caleb felt a flicker of respect, tempered by caution. Fierce, no doubt about that. But there was a recklessness to her answer that could prove dangerous.
“Good,” he said after a moment. “Because you might have to.”
Her jaw tightened, the only visible reaction she allowed. “I don’t have time for games, Mr. Thorne. If you know something, say it.”
“Caleb,” he corrected again, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Your AI device,” he began, his voice dipping into a near-growl, “does more than you think it does. And it’s drawn attention from people who’d rather see it destroyed than let it fall into the wrong hands.”
Her brows furrowed, skepticism flickering across her face. “What are you talking about? My device is designed for corporate security—nothing more.”
“That’s what you think,” Caleb said, his tone quiet but firm. “But your technology—whether you intended it or not—has the potential to uncover things that have stayed hidden for centuries. Things that were never meant to be found.”
A faint tremor of uncertainty passed through her expression before she masked it. “You’re being deliberately vague. What kind of things?”
Caleb hesitated. Revealing too much too soon would overwhelm her—and risk her walking away before she understood the stakes. Trust was a fragile thing, and with Harper, it was a challenge he couldn’t afford to mishandle.
“Let’s just say,” he said finally, “there are people out there who will do anything to keep certain secrets buried. And your device has made you a target.”
Her fingers brushed against her pendant, the movement subtle but telling. Caleb’s gaze followed the gesture, his instincts sharpening. The faint glow of the silver, almost imperceptible, stirred something in his chest—an ache that was both curiosity and warning.
“If you’re trying to scare me,” she said, her voice steady but edged, “you’ll have to do better than that.”
“I’m not trying to scare you,” Caleb replied, his tone hardening. “I’m trying to warn you. This isn’t just about your company or your career. It’s bigger than that.”
Her gray eyes searched his, unreadable but intent. He could see the flicker of doubt, the faint crack in her armor as she began to piece together the enormity of what he was saying.
Before she could respond, the lodge’s front door creaked open, and a gust of icy wind swept through the room. Caleb’s head snapped toward the sound, his senses instantly on high alert.
The storm was coming. And with it, something far more dangerous.
