Carol
She couldn’t get the metal-winged woman out of her head. She’d lingered at the stairs to the basement level, wondering if she should go and try to talk to her again—but her shark senses had told her the woman was still sleeping.
Unconscious. Knocked out. Tranquilized. Lance felt bad about it—everyone did—but Carol couldn’t help but feel what it would be like if their roles were reversed.
What if whatever had gone wrong with her own shifter nature had given her a shark’s jaws and tongue, not just teeth?
What if she was the one in the cage, with everyone looking at her like a broken, dangerous thing?
She shook herself.What if I’d tried to rip apart an airplane while people were still in it? I’d BE a monster then. Not just look like one.
The house was too full for thoughts like that. Someone would see her looking worried and ask if she was okay, and it would be a whole thing. Keeley’s relief and joy at seeing her safe had punched a hole through her chest. She didn’t know what to do with it. Or anything that was happening.
She walked without noticing where she was going, only making sure she avoided the heartpulses that told her where the others were. The world was changing faster than she could keep up. She hadn’t even figured out how to live in the version of the world she thought existed, and now she had to know how to exist around dragons and Soul-Eaters and other monstrous shifters, too?
And Moss.
She stopped.
Her aimless wandering had brought her outside. A sea breeze scudded over the densely packed flaxes and tussock grasses that lined the property, bringing the scent of salt and smoke andhim.
Her heart thudded against her ribs. And suddenly she was moving again—not aimlessly this time, not deliberately skimming the edges of other people’s awareness, but direct. Purposeful. Silent and sure, her feet pattered over the fine gravel paths with less noise than drops of rain. Past a stand of twisted trees too battered by the wind to work as a windbreak, down steps so steep her stomach swooped at the sight of them, like floating over a blue hole and diving in to discover what was hiding down deep.
The steps zig-zagged down the steep slope. Carol moved fast, but by the time she arrived on the lookout platform with the firepit and lounge chairs, it was empty. Moss must have just left. By another path?
She turned to look back up the hill, and the first thing she saw was him.
The path she’d taken wasn’t the only one up the hill. The zig-zag route split and circled back on itself, and Moss was standing almost back at the top. The late afternoon sun was behind him, kissing his brown skin with golden light.
A shadow whispered around him, as though in response to her gaze. She wanted to wrap herself in it. In him.
Her mate.
It should have been another complication, but when she looked at him, all she felt was how right it was. Like floating in a sunbeam.
They’d been alone together before—but here, now, in the midst of everything else, only a few dozen yards from her teammates, was the first time she felt like there was a piece of the world that was for them alone.
“I was coming up to find you,” he said when he stepped back onto the lookout. “Almost missed you.”
There was an echo of regret in his voice. *You could have called,*she said silently, not trusting her own voice to come out steady.
*And risk being overheard by a dragon?*His psychic voice washed over and around her like the tide filling a pool. *It’s been an honor, caring for baby Maggie, but I wanted this to be for us alone. And you know what she’s like when it comes to other people’s food.*
He gestured at the table. Two plates. Two gleaming wine glasses. Covered platters that let out little ribbons of steam and smelled divine.
“It’s not on a distant summit,” Moss said gruffly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “But it’s the best I could do at no notice.”
“You know you already won me over with the mussels on the beach?”
“I know.” The corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile, but tension still held tight at the edges of his mouth. “Don’t get me wrong. This is all for me. I’ve cooked a fancy feast so you can praise me and let me feel good about myself. And then—”
“And then what?”
His gaze flickered. “Let’s eat first.”
He held her chair for her and then sat down opposite her. The canopy over the table kept the worst of the wind off, but enoughof a breeze seeped through to tug at stray locks of his hair. She touched her own braid absently.
Moss’s eyes tracked the movement. “Enjoying being back in the world of hot showers?”
