"Warning." Declan's voice cuts through the tension. "You've stumbled into a war that's been fought in shadows for centuries. The drownings you're investigating are ritual sacrifices. The Russians who attacked you work for a larger organization that traffics in supernatural beings. And by witnessing Finn's transformation, you've become either an asset or a liability depending on what you do next."
"The morning ferry leaves at dawn." The shadow-touched man speaks for the first time, and his voice carries an unsettling quality. Like sound filtered through distance. "You should be on it."
"And if I'm not?" The question comes out before I can stop it.
"Then you're choosing to stay in a war zone." Declan crosses his arms. "With full knowledge of what that means."
The room goes silent except for the wind rattling the window and the distant crash of waves against cliffs. Five supernatural predators wait for my answer. Five creatures who could kill me before I could scream.
I look at Finn. He's watching me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle, makes my pulse spike for reasons that have nothing to do with fear. His eyes hold shadows and fire, centuries of violence and loss, a warning written in every taut line of his body.
Leave, his expression says.Run while you can.
But his hands are clenched at his sides, and I remember how they felt pulling me against him on the coastal path. Protective. Possessive. Mine.
"I'm staying." The words taste like recklessness and truth combined. "I came here to study the algae blooms and investigate the drownings. Knowing shifters are real doesn't change that. If anything, it confirms something supernatural is killing people."
"Stupid." The lean predator's assessment is clinical. "Brave, but stupid."
"Courageous." The massive man corrects. "There's a difference."
Declan studies me for a long moment, then nods. "Then you need to understand the rules. First, what you know about us stays confidential. No papers, no publications, no evidence that could expose the supernatural community to human authorities."
"Second," the lean predator continues, "stay away from the Russians. They're operating under orders from someone higher up the syndicate chain. Getting caught again means death or worse."
"Third." The shadow-touched voice makes me shiver. "If you're staying, you're under Brotherhood protection. Which means you follow instructions when given, and you don't investigate alone."
I nod slowly, processing the implications. "And fourth?"
"There is no fourth." Finn's voice cuts through the room like a blade. "Because you're leaving on the morning ferry whether you think you're staying or not."
The other four Brotherhood members exchange glances that might be amusement.
"That's not your call." I meet his eyes across the room, refusing to back down despite everything screaming thatchallenging a dragon is suicidal. "I'm an adult. I make my own decisions about risk assessment."
"You're a human surrounded by shifters." His voice drops to something rough and dangerous. "Making decisions based on incomplete data about threats you can't comprehend."
"Then give me complete data." I step around the desk, closing distance despite the warning in his expression. "Stop trying to scare me away and start treating me like someone capable of understanding what I'm walking into."
The air between us charges with something that makes the massive man clear his throat and the lean predator smile like he's watching something entertaining.
"We should go." Declan moves toward the door. "Let Finn handle the rest of this conversation."
They file out, each one pausing to assess me one more time. The massive man nods. The lean predator smirks. The shadow-touched one disappears like he was never fully there. Declan stops in the doorway.
"He's trying to protect you." His voice carries the weight of someone who's watched Finn for centuries. "From himself as much as external threats. Don't make it harder than it already is."
Then they're gone, and it's just Finn and me in a room that suddenly feels too small and too charged with everything we're not saying.
"You need to leave." His voice is rough. "Before this gets worse."
"Define worse."
His eyes flash with something that might be dragon fire. "You really want that answer, Dr. Mercer?"
The way he says my title sounds like a challenge and a warning wrapped together. My pulse spikes, and from the way his nostrils flare, he knows exactly what effect he's having on me.
"I stayed through a shifter confrontation." I force my voice steady. "I think I can handle one more impossible conversation."
