Page 40 of Shattered Salvation
The dismissal is as polite as it can be, even though it just makes everything feel worse. They're not suspending me outright. They're simply removing me from the thing that's defined me for years. I don't argue. I've been in enough rooms like this to know when the decision has already been made. I nod once, turn, and walk out before anyone can offer me a handshake or a second round of explanations.
On the way down the hall, I catch the scent Kade described. It's faint but unmistakable. Flattened and chemical-edged, the same wrong note I've noticed twice before. It clings to the air near the stairwell like someone has passed through recently and left it behind. I file it away even though I still can't place it.
I push through the main doors, finding Caldwell leaning against the side of his car in the small lot behind the station,arms crossed over his chest, dreads pulled back and expression unreadable. He takes one look at my face and pushes off the car.
"I'm guessing you just got fired," Caldwell says.
I laugh. "Something like that. Morrison decided my connections were a liability. She told me to take some time and come back with a clear head. Translation is that I'm off the case until they decide I'm not a problem anymore."
Caldwell studies me for a second longer than necessary. His gaze moves over the faint marks on my neck, his nostrils flaring at my mixed scent, the cedar and vanilla that cling to my clothes even after the shower and the bath. He doesn't comment on any of it directly. He simply says, "And you smell like happiness."
The morning in the nest and the bath still sits warm under my skin, and the way Emrys held Kade's face and the way Kade let himself be held aren't things I can fold back into the job like they never happened.
Caldwell opens his door. "Where to? I’ve got to go grab my files but we've got a shit ton of work to do and I don't have an office here. Now neither do you."
I stand on the cracked pavement for a long moment. The job that's filled every gap for years has just asked me to step back. The part of me that's always kept work and everything else in separate boxes is still trying to find a reason to keep them that way. I can't. Not anymore. A slow smile spreads across my face. "I know a place."
Kade
The office at Rourke Securities has become something it's never been before.
Every screen is lit. Every line of communication we trust is open. Dana is at her station with three monitors running at once, pulling transaction histories, export logs, and shell-company records into the same map with the kind of focus that makes the rest of the room feel quieter around her. Sloane moves between desks with a tablet in one hand and a phone in the other, keeping our cleared people tight, because the number of people allowedto know the full shape of this is still small enough that I can name every one of them without looking away from the main board.
Skylar’s by the long table near the center of the room with a mug of coffee in one hand and a printed ledger in the other, wearing yesterday's clothes, exhaustion under his eyes, and an expression that's sharpened into something I recognize too well.
He's lost official access to the station, which should've taken tools out of his hands. Instead, it's put him in the middle of mine, and there's a quiet, dangerous relief in watching him realize he can still work.
He belongs in this room. The thought comes with less surprise than it would've a week ago. He belongs beside Emrys in the kitchen with a diner bag and too many excuses. He belongs half-asleep in an Omega's nest with one hand tangled in a blanket and his scent finally settled. He belongs here too, with evidence in front of him and the case taking shape under his hands. Watching him move through my company like he's not quite ready to admit he trusts it yet makes something in my chest loosen and tighten at the same time.
Detective Caldwell arrives twenty minutes after Skylar. Sloane lets him through the secure door himself, and Caldwell steps into the operations floor with his shoulders set and his eyes already moving. He doesn't look impressed at first. He looks cautious. An Alpha walking into another Alpha's territory with his former partner already inside it, surrounded by private security resources, money trails, and people who take my orders without question. His apprehension isn't insulting. It's sensible.
I stay where I am near the long table and let him take the room in. Dana glances over from her station. "If you're here to say we're not allowed to touch the pretty federal task-force evidence, I've already decided to ignore you."
Caldwell's eyes move to her, then to the map on the screen behind her. "That depends on what you're doing with it."
"Mostly judging it for being badly organized."
"It's government work," Skylar says, setting his mug down. "Be kind. They're doing their best with beige software and institutional despair."
Caldwell looks at him then, something in his expression shifts. "You good?" Caldwell asks.
Skylar's mouth moves, into something that’s not quite a smile. "Working on it."
Caldwell's gaze flicks toward me again. The calculation returns, sharper this time, and I feel the room react around it. Sloane's posture changes by a degree. Dana keeps typing, but she's listening. Skylar notices all of it, lets out a breath through his nose, and crosses the space between us without hesitation.
"This is Kade," Skylar says, stopping beside me. Then, before Caldwell can decide what category to put me in, he adds, "My Alpha."
The room goes quiet for half a second.
Then Dana makes a sound into her coffee that she absolutely fails to hide. Sloane turns his face toward one of the monitors like that'll save him. Caldwell blinks once, then looks from Skylar to me and back again while the entire shape of what he thought he walked into rearranges itself in real time.
Skylar lifts an eyebrow. "You planning to say something?"
Caldwell rubs a hand over his jaw, and the laugh that comes out of him is short, surprised, and real. "Well. That explains the smell."
Skylar closes his eyes. "You were supposed to say hello."
"I was adapting."
