Such a life she wished for Kaia and for Bowen Knight, a human who loved Bebe’s girl enough to fight for her through fair means or foul.

Chapter 68

KJ is gone. We found his wife hysterical near her yacht. They took it out half a day before I gave the order to find him, and at some point, KJ dived in to check something underneath the yacht and never came back up. She almost drowned diving to look for him—Miane had to haul her out because she wouldn’t stop looking.

—Malachai Rhys in a call to Bowen Knight

BO LISTENED TO Mal while standing barefoot under a glittering night sky on an isolated stretch of Italian coastline. KJ wasn’t dead, that much was apparent to both of them. Someone had obviously noticed Hugo’s hacking and warned KJ to get the hell out. Whether or not KJ would stay alive was another question.

“Any indications why KJ turned against the clan?” he asked, his eyes on the horizon and his feet digging into the sand.

“Nothing so far, but we’re still excavating his life. Regardless—the fact he married a woman only to abandon her to save his own skin tells me he’s not who we all thought he was.”

Bo had been racking his brain for signs of evil in KJ, but all he could remember was the other man’s good nature. The only indication of anything “off” was that night after the second injection when he’d stirred awake because someone was in his room. He’d assumed it to be George, but there’d been a scent he hadn’t been able to put his finger on at the time.

Peppermint.

Like the gum KJ was always chewing.

On the other hand, with all the layers of corruption and deception they’d uncovered, Bo wasn’t taking anything at face value. “Doesn’t make sense that he didn’t take the opportunity to do me harm.”

“It does if KJ was meant to be a long-term mole,” Malachai pointed out. “Any action against you would’ve put the entire station under a spotlight. His bosses must’ve weighed it up, decided it wasn’t worth losing KJ.”

Bo had no counterargument to that, but his doubts continued to hover. “Mal, is there any chance he could’ve been set up?” What better way to hide a traitor than to have that traitor be found out? “Hugo could’ve truly believed he’d unearthed the name of the betrayer, but was being used the entire time.”

“We’re looking at that.” Malachai’s tone was as cold as the ocean; his anger hadn’t abated any during the search for the truth. “If Hugo’s intel is right, though, then these Consortium assholes have been smarter than we thought. Having all these people doing small things for them, no one knowing about the others, while distracting us with the big hits.”

“Yes.” While Malachai tried to ensure BlackSea was now free of moles, Bowen had Lily and Cassius digging for any other indications of trouble within the Alliance, however slight the problem might be—like BlackSea, they had to eliminate any tiny holes the Consortium had put in their wall of security and loyalty. “I don’t want it to be KJ.”

“None of us want it to be KJ. Especially after Hugo.” Flat words. “I should have funeral details in the next forty-eight hours. The pathologist is still running tests on the poison.”

Bo continued to watch the water. “Heenali will come, no matter when the funeral. But she needs time to say good-bye.”

“I’ll make sure she has it. His parents have already agreed to her nightwatch—they’re glad their son had a chance to fall in love before he was murdered.”

All these broken lives, Bowen thought, all this pain, just because the members of the Consortium had an endless lust for power. They couldn’t bear to see a world at peace, made more profit when Psy, changeling, and humans stayed in their separate corners and suspicion hung in the air.

“If it wasn’t KJ, he’s dead,” Malachai said into the quiet that had fallen between them.

“Yes.” He’d have been the sacrificial lamb to lend credence to Hugo’s discovery. “But hard as it is for me to accept, it also makes sense that it was him.”

“A man no one would suspect.”

“Exactly.” A friendly, easygoing surfer type who was training in a profession that was all about care. “Any assistance I or the Alliance can offer, just ask and it’s yours.”

His eye caught on a break in the wave in the far distance. “I have to go.”

“Is she there?”

“Yes.” Bowen couldn’t see her; she was too far out, but he knew. The same way he’d known which beach to come to tonight—the tug of the mating bond had become stronger and stronger the closer Kaia came, until she became the signal and Bowen’s heart the antenna.

Though the sea was night dark and turbulent, he stripped off his clothing and waded in to the waist. The cold water lapped against him as he searched for her. He still couldn’t see her, but he could feel the wildness of her deep in—

Something bumped his leg.

He looked down, gleaned nothing through the water.

Another bump, this one on his hip.

Lips wanting to curve, he began to “listen” to the sea, and the next time there was a shift that couldn’t be explained by the waves, he reached out . . . but she was too fast, his playful mate whose other form was designed for the ocean. Whooping like a madman, his blood too hot to fear the icy chill, he dived into the water. She surfaced with him this time, and she wasn’t in her human form.

Her eyes were vibrant and intelligent—and mischievous. “I knew you were a dolphin.” Even before the mating bond and the knowledge it had thrust into his soul. “All that playfulness, such a tight-knit pod of family, these beautiful eyes.”

Another nudge, this one at his chest before she dived under, and when she next surfaced, she was far enough out that she could dive up out of the water then back in. Showing off for him before swimming back in and sliding up against him. He ran his hand gently over her delicate skin, astonished and delighted and so fucking happy it hurt.

When he petted her dorsal fin, he noticed the small notch near the top. Curious, he bent to examine it, wondering if it was the result of an accident at some point in her life or if it was the counterpart to her “diva nail.”

She nudged at him impatiently.

Laughing, he got the hint and began to stroke her again.

Light sparkled . . . and then there was a brown-eyed siren under his hands.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and kissed him wild and wet and with keening need. He could do nothing but kiss her in return, drinking her in like she was water and he was parched. “You came back.” The words were torn out of him.

He’d played every card he held, but in the end it had been her choice and all Bowen could do was wait.

“Because you’re mine.” Implacable words. “I was half-mad when I said what I did. I don’t see land when I see you, Bo. I see my heart and it terrifies me.”

“Me, too,” he said huskily. “You swim in the ocean and it’s full of dangers even without those who’re hunting BlackSea. I had to force myself to breathe when I learned you were out there on your own.” He’d never expected her to take off from Bebe’s island and head straight for him. “God, baby, you came such a long way all alone.”

Pride in the smile she gave him. “I had to come claim my mate.”

“You own me, Siren. You always will.”

“Forgive me, then?” A nuzzle of her nose against his. “I hurt you.”

“Ah, Kaia, I’d forgive you the world.”

This kiss was gentler, slower, tenderness in every fragment of a moment as they soothed hurts in each other. He knew she remained badly wounded, the losses piling up on her soft heart. And she knew he was bruised from her rejection. It hadn’t been real, he understood that, but it had hurt all the same.

So he let her heal him and he tried to heal her, and when their bodies joined, it was with a devotion that lit up both their souls. Afterward, as he carried her to the sand he’d cleared of snow to lay down a thick rug and create a warm bed of blankets, Kaia said, “I miss Hugo,” and her voice, it broke.

In the hour that followed, Kaia finally cried for her friend who’d lost his way, the sobs rocking her whole body as she lay curled up in Bowen’s arms.

* * *

• • •

KAIA had never cried as she cried that night, held safe against her mate’s strong, warm body under a thick blanket he’d chosen because it’d be soft on her skin. She cried for her parents, taken so young, and for Hugo, who’d made such foolish mistakes—and she cried for herself, for the wounds that scarred her. She cried until her tears ran dry and then she cried until her throat was raw.

Through it all, one thing remained a constant: Bowen.

Her love. Her anchor. Her mate.

She lifted swollen eyelids.

The world was silent around them but for the soft, soothing sound of the waves. Above, the night sky glittered like a thousand tiny lights had been turned on just for them. And though the temperature bit with winter’s sharp teeth, she was lazily warm. The blanket was comfortingly heavy and her mate had set up self-contained heaters around their bed on the sand.

He was wonderful. And he was hers. “The sand’s probably already in places I don’t want anything,” she said in a vain effort to banish the echoes of sorrow.

“I’ll help you wash,” he replied in the same playful tone, though his voice held a roughness that told her he’d cried with her.

“How is Heenali?”

“Broken.” Bowen pressed his lips to her drying hair. “All we can do is give her time.”

Kaia hurt for the other woman and for Hugo, who’d won a woman of substance and courage but who would never know what they could be together. “I’m going to make friends with her,” she vowed. “She can talk to me about Hugo. No one in the Alliance knows him like Heenali and I do.”

“Heenali can be a tough nut to crack.”