I'm running before conscious thought catches up. The path is treacherous, loose stones and sharp drops, but I navigate it with the sure-footedness of someone who has walked these cliffs since childhood. When I reach her, she's leaning against a boulder with her eyes closed and her chest heaving.
"Isla." Her name comes out reverent, desperate.
Her eyes open, and something in their depths makes the world tilt sideways. They're still human, but there's a quality to them that wasn't there before. Like she's seen things no human should see and brought some of that ancient knowledge back with her.
"Grayson." Her shoulders drop, tension draining from her frame. "You're back."
I want to grab her, hold her, make sure she's real and whole. But my hands hover uncertainly because I don't know what she needs right now. Touch or space. Comfort or room to process whatever just happened.
She makes the choice for me, stepping into my arms with a sound that's half sob, half laugh. I wrap around her carefully,feeling how she's trembling. How her skin is colder than it should be.
"Jax." Her first word is urgent, worried. "Is he okay? He fought them to give me time to run. There were so many of them."
"He's fine. Silver burns on his throat from a chain they used, but nothing that won't heal." I stroke her wet hair. "He got away clean once you hit the water. They went after you instead."
Relief shudders through her body. "Good. That's good." Then she pulls back enough to look up at me. "I shifted. Dove into the water and just... changed. I was a seal. Grayson, I was a seal."
"I know." I press my face into her wet hair, breathing in the scent that's both familiar and changed. "The magic residue is all over the rocks. Your scent changed."
"It was..." She pulls back enough to look up at me, and her eyes are wide, lips parted. "It was perfect. Like coming home. Like every piece of me that never made sense suddenly fit together exactly right."
Not terror. Not horror. Wonder. She transformed for the first time in a moment of mortal danger, and instead of being traumatized, she's glowing with discovery.
Heat blooms in my chest, fierce and possessive. Mate understands. Mate accepts what she is. Mate is ours completely now.
"We need to get you inside and warm. Make sure you're not hurt."
"I'm not hurt." But she leans into me anyway, letting me take some of her weight as we navigate back up the path. "Exhausted. Shifting twice in quick succession drains something important. But not hurt."
Two shifts. She went to seal and came back to human, both in the span of less than an hour. Most shifters need years to master control like that, and she did it instinctively her first time.
Declan and Rafe wait at the top of the cliff. Declan's expression goes from concern to calculation. Rafe's goes carefully blank in the way it does when he's processing new information and deciding what it means.
"The cottage is destroyed." Declan's tone is matter-of-fact as he tosses us both blankets, but tension runs underneath like a current. "Whatever attacked knew what they were looking for and came prepared for supernatural resistance."
"Carrick's people." Isla's voice is steady despite the exhaustion. "Professional team. They weren't trying to kill me. They wanted to capture me." She pauses. "They chained Jax with silver. Had equipment designed for containing shifters. They knew exactly what they'd face."
"Which means they've been watching longer than we thought." Rafe's attention moves to scan the surrounding area. "Gathering intelligence. Waiting for the right moment."
"And they picked today because they knew Grayson would be gone." Isla's insight is sharp despite her exhaustion. "Someone told them about the patrol schedule. About when I'd be most vulnerable."
The weight of betrayal presses down on all of us. Someone on the island is feeding information to Carrick. Someone who knows enough about the brotherhood's movements to betray them effectively. The prowler we tracked this morning could have been a distraction to draw me away from Isla precisely when she'd need me most.
"We deal with the traitor later." Declan's declaration cuts through the speculation. "Right now, we need to get Isla somewhere safe. Assess the damage. Figure out our next move."
"The tower." I don't wait for approval. My mate needs sanctuary, and Warden's Tower has stood against threats for centuries. "I'm taking her there. Jax can stand watch. The rest of you secure the cottage and see what evidence you can salvage."
Isla doesn't protest as I guide her toward the tower. She leans into me, trusting me to support her weight as exhaustion finally catches up. By the time we reach the tower's entrance, she's leaning most of her weight against me, her steps dragging.
I get her inside and settled on the sofa with blankets wrapped around her shaking body. She needs rest. Needs food. Needs time to process what happened. But first, she needs Moira.
I pull out my phone and find Moira's contact. The text is brief:
Isla shifted. Need you at the tower now.
Her response comes within seconds:
On my way.
