"I should go. I need to update the others."
His hand rests on the knob for a moment before he turns back. "Give me your phone."
I pull it from my pocket and hand it over. Grayson's fingers move quickly across the screen, adding contacts.
"Abbey landline. My cell. Declan, Eliza, Rafe, Jax, Finn, Kian, Moira." He hands it back. "Keep the doors and windows locked. Don't answer if anyone knocks. If anything feels wrong—anything at all—you call for help."
"I will."
He slips out into the rain, and I throw the deadbolt behind him. For a long moment I stand with my back pressed against the door, listening to his footsteps fade into the storm.
I hear footsteps sound on the stone path outside—slow and deliberate, circling the cottage like something searching for a way in.
CHAPTER 11
GRAYSON
Rain hammers my shoulders as I leave Isla's cottage, but the storm isn't what makes my bear push against my skin. Something prowls the darkness beyond her walls, and every instinct I possess screams to go back inside and stand guard until dawn.
I pull out my phone and text Declan:
Someone followed us. Ocean reacted. Non-human. Need backup at Isla's cottage now.
His response comes within seconds:
Jax on his way. You track the scent.
Good. Jax will keep her safe while I figure out what the hell we're dealing with. I follow the scent the prowler left behind, tracking it through rain-slicked streets. Not human. One of Carrick's contacts, maybe, or something else drawn to her awakening power. The trail leads toward the harbor and then vanishes at the water's edge.
Smart enough to cover their tracks. Whoever this is knows what they're doing. I photograph the location, the angle ofapproach, everything that might help us identify what came hunting. By the time I circle back toward Isla's cottage, Jax has taken up position in the shadows across from her door, a silent sentinel that nothing will get past.
I exchange a brief nod with Jax before heading toward the abbey. Declan will want a full report, and we need to coordinate patrols before whatever this is makes another move. The walk gives me time to replay the evening in my head, looking for details I might have missed. The way the ocean responded to Isla's presence. The sudden retreat of whoever was stalking her. The complete disappearance of their scent at the water's edge.
The abbey's windows glow warm through the darkness when I arrive. Inside, the brotherhood has gathered again. Declan stands near the fireplace with Eliza at his side. Rafe and Moira occupy the sofa. Finn watches from his chair by the window. Kian sprawls in a corner, deceptively relaxed.
"Someone followed us from the council chambers." I close the door behind me and shake rain from my hair. "Stayed in the shadows, careful to avoid detection. When we reached Isla's cottage, the ocean erupted. Water rose in a wall of warning, glowing with selkie magic. Whoever was out there retreated, but their scent disappeared at the harbor."
"Supernatural, then." Rafe's tone is flat. "Human scents don't just vanish."
"Exactly." I move closer to the fire, but the warmth does nothing to ease the cold knot in my gut. "Which means Carrick's brought in outside help, or Isla's awakening is drawing attention from things we haven't accounted for."
"The pendant protects her." Moira's voice carries certainty. "But protection only goes so far if she doesn't understand what she is or what she can do."
"She's learning." My voice is harsher than the question warrants. "But she's not ready to face whatever Carrick might send against her."
"Then we make sure she doesn't have to." Declan's declaration settles over the room like a physical weight. "Rotating patrols around her cottage. No one approaches without us knowing. And someone needs to accelerate her training before the council votes and this situation escalates."
"I'll handle the training." The offer leaves my mouth before I fully consider the implications. Spending more time alone with Isla, teaching her to access powers that are already pulling me toward her with magnetic insistence, sounds like the worst possible idea. But the alternative is letting someone else get that close to her, and my bear rejects that option with violent certainty.
"Good." Declan's attention pins me in place. "Keep her safe, Grayson. Whatever it takes."
The meeting drags on for another hour as we coordinate patrol schedules and contingency plans. By the time I leave, the rain has stopped and the clouds have begun to break apart, revealing stars between the gaps. The wind carries the scent of salt and seaweed, familiar rhythms that usually soothe my beast. Tonight they do nothing to calm the restless energy coiling through my muscles.
I should return to the tower and get some sleep before dawn patrol. Instead I find myself walking back toward Isla's cottage, following stone paths made slick by rain. Lamplight glows through her windows, and I can see her shadow moving inside. She's still awake despite the late hour, still processing everything that happened tonight.
The prowler's scent is gone, washed away by rain or deliberately obscured. Either option leaves me unsettled. I complete a full circuit around her cottage, checking windowsand testing door locks with the paranoia of someone who has spent lifetimes guarding what matters. Everything is secure, and Jax remains in position in the shadows near the cliff path, a solid presence that should ease my mind.
It doesn't. My bear still wants to break down her door and plant myself between her and anything that might threaten her.
