Her words settle into my bones like truth, like fate. We sit together in my private cove as the sun sets and the tide begins to rise, both of us knowing that tomorrow everything changes. Tomorrow Carrick begins his operations. Tomorrow the real battle starts.
Water rises around our rock, cold waves lapping at our feet. Soon we'll have to leave or be trapped by the tide. Darkness claims the ocean and stars emerge overhead. Her hand stays warm in mine, her weight solid against my side.
My bear finally settles. Mate understands. Mate will fight beside us. Mate will be ours forever, once this threat is ended.
I breathe in salt and her scent, memorizing this moment. Tomorrow brings blood and violence. Tomorrow brings Carrick and whatever dark ritual he's planning.
Water laps higher around the rock. Cold seeps through my boots. Soon the tide will force us back to the tower, back to strategy and weapons and war.
CHAPTER 16
ISLA
Walking back from the cove, salt still clinging to my skin and Grayson's hand warm in mine, I want this moment to last forever. The peace, the certainty, the quiet before the storm breaks.
We're halfway up the cliff path when Grayson's phone vibrates. His grip tightens on mine, every muscle in his body going rigid.
"What is it?" The question comes out calm despite the racing of my heart.
"Declan." Grayson's jaw works as he reads. "Motion sensors triggered at the outer sites. Northern caves, southern cove, the standing stones. Everything at once."
Fear spikes through me. "Carrick?"
"Has to be." He's already moving, pulling me faster up the path. "Too coordinated to be coincidence. He's making his move."
We break into a run. This is a coordinated assault with significant resources and military precision. This isn't exploratory research. This is invasion.
The tower comes into view, and Grayson's already on the phone with Declan, barking orders. Inside, he shows me theweapons cache I didn't know existed behind a false panel in the stone wall. Knives, firearms, things that look ancient and probably magical.
"Stay here. Lock the door. Don't open it for anyone but me or the brotherhood."
"That's not happening." I grab his wrist before he can turn away. "I'm not hiding while you fight."
"Isla—"
"I'm a selkie." The words taste strange but true. "I'm part of this fight whether you like it or not."
War plays across his face—guardian versus mate, duty versus protection. "You've had one day of training. The first time you shifted, it was to survive an attack. You've never done this intentionally on your own."
"Then tell me where I can help." I refuse to back down. "Give me a job that doesn't involve cowering in a tower while people die defending my heritage."
A muscle jumps in his jaw, but he nods. "Fine. Jax is coordinating from the village center. He needs someone tracking movements, relaying intel. Can you do that?"
"Yes." Relief washes through me that he's not trying to bench me completely.
"Go to him. Stay inside. If anything happens—" He stops, pulls me close. "If anything happens, run for the water. Your instincts will take over. The ocean will protect you."
"Nothing's going to happen." Our lips meet, brief and fierce, tasting of salt and determination. "Go. They need you."
He leaves in a blur of movement and grey mist. Thunder cracks outside as silver light flares. Where a man stood seconds ago, a massive grizzly now charges into the night.
I force myself to move toward the village center, toward Jax, toward whatever role I can play in this fight.
The village itself remains quiet when I reach the streets. Most residents don't know what's happening at the remote sacred locations. Carrick's smart enough to keep his attacks away from witnesses, away from anywhere that would bring authorities or create obvious evidence of his involvement.
Jax has set up in the old community hall, a stone building that probably predates half the village. Maps cover every surface, pins marking the sacred sites. Radios crackle with updates, voices tight with tension.
"Isla." Jax looks up from the radio in his hand just long enough to shove a tablet at me. "You're on communications. The brotherhood and their people are calling in from the sites. Log everything on this map. Every detail matters."
