"How did you know?" It comes out sharper than I intended.
"Rafe saw the mist and thunder from the cliffs." Declan crosses his arms. "He followed the trail to the coastal path and found a knife with syndicate markings and your scent all over the scene."
Rafe's shadow-walking makes him the Brotherhood's best scout.
"The witnesses ran. They fled into the forest. I didn't pursue."
"Which means they're reporting what they saw right now." Grayson enters the cave, his massive bear form contained in human shape through sheer will. "The Russians work for thelarger organization. The syndicate will have confirmation by nightfall that shifters are active on Skara."
"They already knew." I cross my arms. "The drownings aren't random. Someone's been harvesting victims for rituals that require supernatural components. They've been operating here for months."
"Suspecting and confirming are different." Kian's wolf prowls in his eyes. "Suspicion can be managed. Confirmation requires action."
Declan's gaze sharpens. "We found phoenix ash near the attack site. Mikhail was there."
The words land like a physical blow. I knew he was watching. I smelled the smoke and burning beneath the salt air. But confirmation means he's not just observing anymore. He's involved in whatever the syndicate is planning.
"He saw the transformation." The statement comes out flat. "That's why I did it. He needed to know Lila is protected."
"Protected how?" Grayson's voice carries the kind of blunt honesty that makes him impossible to lie to. "By claiming her and making her yours officially? Or by scaring her away so she leaves the island and you can pretend she never existed?"
"Both options are suicide." I turn back to the algae-lit waters. "Claiming her makes her Mikhail's perfect target. Letting her leave means she's vulnerable to the syndicate, to ritual sacrifice, to becoming another drowning victim with no water in her lungs."
"So what's your plan?" Kian steps beside me. "Doing nothing isn't an option. She's investigating the drownings and collecting evidence. And now she knows dragons are real, which makes her either an asset or a threat depending on who gets to her first."
"She should be leaving on the morning ferry." I taste ash.
"Did she say she would?" Declan's question cuts through the rationalization.
I don't answer. I don't need to. Her light still burns at Flynn's Inn, and the morning ferry will leave soon.
"You're in love with her." Grayson says it like he's commenting on the weather, a simple fact with no judgment. "The bond is getting stronger whether you accept it or not. I can smell it on you, the way your scent changes when she's near. You've already claimed her in every way that matters except making it official."
"I won't bond with her." My dragon rages beneath my skin, furious at the denial. "Bonding makes her a target and makes her leverage Mikhail can use against me. He killed Saoirse because she was mine." The old rage surfaces, sharp and merciless. "He murdered her to prove caring makes you weak. I won't watch another woman die for the crime of being mine."
They know the story. They know what Mikhail did centuries ago and why I've lived in the ocean depths ever since.
"So what's your plan?" Kian's voice carries an edge I've rarely heard from him. "Let her die unprotected instead? Let the syndicate take her for rituals? Let Mikhail kill her before you've bonded because that somehow hurts less?"
The truth slices through every defense. There's no scenario where Lila walks away unscathed. The syndicate wants her research or her silence. Mikhail wants to use her against me. And I want her safe, protected, alive in ways that have nothing to do with rational strategy and everything to do with the bond I'm fighting.
The temperature spikes as flames materialize from nothing, white-hot and crackling with power that makes the air shimmer. The Brotherhood tenses—wolf, bear, tiger, dragon—poised to strike. But the flames don't attack. They coalesce into human form, elegant and deadly.
Mikhail steps from the fire like he's walking through a doorway. His smile carries the kind of satisfied amusement that precedes violence.
"Hello, old friend." His voice resonates with harmonics that mark ancient phoenixes. "Still protecting lost causes, I see."
Declan surges forward, but I raise a hand. The gesture stops him mid-stride.
"Relax." Mikhail spreads his hands in a gesture of mock peace. "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to talk. About the lovely Dr. Mercer and why Finn is so desperate to drive her away."
"Get out." The words come through clenched teeth. "Before I forget you were once my friend."
"Were we friends?" He tilts his head, considering. "I remember a partnership. Two immortals navigating centuries together. You provided strength, I provided vision. It worked until you let sentiment cloud your judgment."
"You killed Saoirse." The dragon claws at my control. "Murder, not judgment."
"That was necessity." Mikhail walks deeper into the cave, fearless despite the Brotherhood's readiness to tear him apart. "She was a weakness, Finn. Leverage waiting to be exploited. I tried to make you see reason. When you refused to listen, I did what was necessary."
