The thought of manipulating Catriona the same way makes my tiger bare its teeth in rejection, which is inconvenient as hell.
A soft knock interrupts my research. I close the laptop and reach for the weapon I keep in my desk drawer, hand settling on familiar metal before I call out.
"Come in."
The door opens to reveal Rafe Vega, shadow incarnate, moving as he always does like darkness given form. His panther shows in every graceful movement, every silent step, every predatory assessment of potential threats.
"Declan's called a meeting," Rafe says without preamble. "Abbey. Now. Something about the new cop causing problems."
Of course Declan knows already. The alpha wolf misses nothing that happens on his island, in his territory, among his brotherhood. My presence at the docks tonight probably reached him before I made it back to my warehouse.
"I'll be there." I stand, grabbing my jacket from the back of the chair. "Give me a moment to secure this place."
Rafe nods and disappears back into shadows, probably already halfway to the abbey despite having just delivered the message. Panther speed combined with literal shadow-walking makes him the brotherhood's most effective messenger and spy.
The walk to the abbey takes longer than Rafe's shadow-travel, but I prefer solid ground beneath my feet. The time gives me space to think, to strategize, to prepare for whatever Declan has planned.
My tiger remains restless, pushing at my control with every step. Getting closer to where the brotherhood gathers feels wrong somehow, like approaching a decision I'm not ready to make or accepting help I haven't earned.
The recent alliance with Declan and the others is still new, still fragile, still weighted with history and mistrust. Fighting together against cartel enforcers and supernatural threats created temporary unity, but years of isolation can't be erased in mere battles. I'm part of the brotherhood now, technically, but trust doesn't come easy to exiles who learned the hard way that loyalty gets you killed.
The abbey looms against the night sky, ancient stone and modern security combined in a structure that's served as the pack's headquarters for generations. Light spills from windows, warm and inviting in ways that make the tiger suspicious. Warmth means comfort. Comfort means vulnerability. And vulnerability gets you hurt.
I push through the heavy door into a space that smells of wolf and wood smoke, old stone and new tension. The main hall opens before me, massive fireplace crackling with flames that cast dancing shadows across walls decorated with pack history.
Declan stands near the fire, his presence filling the space without effort. His eyes find mine the moment I enter, assessing, calculating, determining whether I'm ally or problem. Eliza sits nearby, the journalist turned wolf, her eyes sharp with intelligence that reminds me uncomfortably of a certain police chief.
Grayson Hale occupies a chair by the window, his bear's solid presence grounding the room. Jax Callahan leans against the far wall, scarred and dangerous and barely leashed even on good days. Finn Rowan sits apart from the others, ancient dragon in human form, his gaze tracking everything with the patience of something that's lived for centuries.
Rafe materializes from shadows near the fireplace, completing the circle. The brotherhood. Predators who shouldn't work together but somehow do, bound by territory and necessity and recent blood spilled in a common cause.
"O'Donnell." Declan's voice carries command wrapped in careful neutrality. "Heard you had an interesting night at the docks."
"Word travels fast."
I take a position near the door, keeping my back to the solid wall and my exit clear. Old habits die hard. The Brotherhood thinks I've reformed, that fighting together as one of themmade me like them. They don't know about the bodies I've left behind, the lines I crossed that got me exiled in the first place. Three clan members were found dead, throats torn out, when they discovered I'd been skimming from operations. I could have explained, could have made them understand the money was going to free captives, but I didn't. I let them think I killed for greed instead of admitting to the weakness of caring about human cargo. Exile was easier than explaining I'm not as ruthless as I need to be. Or that sometimes, I am.
"Island gossip always does." Declan gestures toward an empty chair. "Sit. We need to talk about our new problem."
I remain standing. "The police chief."
"Catriona MacLeod." Eliza's voice carries a thread of concern. "I did some research after Declan told me. She's legitimate, Kian. Decorated officer. Built her career on taking down organized crime. If she saw you at the docks tonight, she's not going to let it go."
"I know." I cross my arms, feeling the tiger push against my ribs. "Already looked her up. She's exactly the kind of cop who can't be bought or intimidated."
"Which makes her dangerous to all of us." Jax straightens from the wall, his eyes cold. "Not just to your smuggling operation. To the brotherhood. To the island. If she starts digging into crime here, she'll find things that can't be explained without exposing what we are."
"She's human." Grayson's deep voice rumbles like distant thunder. "Humans who discover shifters tend to react badly. Either they run to authorities with stories that get them labeled crazy, or they stay and become liabilities we can't afford."
"Or they become mates and join the brotherhood." Eliza's tone carries dry humor. "Like I did. Like Isla. Like Moira. Seems to be a pattern around here."
The word 'mate' makes my tiger surge forward so hard I have to clench my jaw against the sudden need to shift. To claim. To hunt down the woman whose scent still lingers in my memory and mark her as mine in ways that would terrify her and could destroy me.
I force the reaction down, hoping none of the assembled shifters noticed. But Declan's eyes narrow slightly, reading something in my posture or scent that gives away more than I want to reveal.
"The Russians want her dead." I keep my voice level, professional. "Dimitri contacted me. They say she found files that could expose the Cork operation. They consider her a liability that needs permanent removal."
Silence settles over the room, heavy and dangerous. Killing cops brings attention no one wants. But letting cops investigate brings exposure that could destroy everything the brotherhood has built.
