Page 46 of Shattered Salvation
Mara Morrison.
Declan Smisson.
Mother. Son.
No one speaks right away.
The chief's son. The man who's been moving through the station like he belonged there because, in some awful way, he did. Skylar makes a sound under his breath. "No fucking way."
He lets go of my hand only to step closer to the screen. His gaze moves between Declan's photo, the alley still, and the family tree. Then his whole body changes. "The scent," he says.
Caldwell turns toward him. "What scent?"
Skylar's voice tightens. "Morrison's office. The stairwell. That wrong chemical-blocked smell I kept catching where no one should've been wearing anything strong enough to flatten their scent. Kade even caught it at the station and in the alleyway. It wasn't Morrison. It had to have been him."
He looks back at the screen, and I see the moment finish landing. "The alley, the office, the station. Same man."
Which means the one person who’s been shoving fear into my head and ruining everything for Kade and Skylar is all the same person. "Your chief knows?" I ask, though I'm not sure which answer would be worse.
Skylar looks at the family tree on the screen, his expression hard and hurt in a way I don't know how to touch. "She knows something."
Kade's hand spreads wider against my back, a low growl rumbling through his chest as the room seems to move again, Dana and Sloane working through Declan Smission’s history while Caldwell pulls out his phone.
I don’t even really know what’s going on. I just know it’s bad. Then Skylar comes back to me. He takes my hand again, fingers threading through mine on top of the polished table. His palm is warm. His scent is sharp with anger, but beneath it, amber stays steady enough for me to hold onto. "You brought us the thing we needed, Rys. Thank you. I can’t imagine how terrified you were."
I fold myself into Kade’s chest, leaning my shoulder against Skylar. “I was so scared it was going to happen again but it didn’t. And I’m here. And you’re going to get him, right?”
Kade hums, “Yeah, sweetheart, we are.” His hand moves to rest against the back of my neck, holding me between them.
Caldwell looks up from his call. "We need to assume Morrison's office is compromised. Files, access, communication, all of it. Whether she's protecting him or he's using her, the station isn't clean."
Skylar's mouth tightens. "He had top-level proximity."
"Exactly," Caldwell says.
Dana's fingers are still flying over the keyboard. "Then we don't send anything through the station. Not even routine."
Sloane glances at Kade. "Baxter?"
"Baxter," Kade says. "And Caldwell's federal channel only if he controls the handoff."
Caldwell nods once. "I do. They don’t get anything unless it goes through me. Now, we just have to figure out where this fucker is and what his reason for letting Hex out is." I brace myself, slightly confused as I twist to look at the Alpha. A tight smile spreads across his face. “IfDeclan is the Cardinal Network, and the one funding Hex, that means he let that fucker out. Either to restart the killings or Hex has become a liability. Either way, someone’s going to get hurt if we don’t work fast.”
I sag against my men. “I can’t wait for this to end,” I mutter.
Emrys
We tried to watch a movie after dinner, something light with too much dialogue and not enough plot, but I couldn’t settle into it. The couch felt too narrow, then too open, then too warm beneath my legs. The nest in the corner kept pulling at the edge of my attention even though I had no real reason to go to it yet, and every time I looked away from the screen, Skylar’s hand moved at my waist like he knew without opening his eyes.
He fell asleep halfway through the second act, head tipped back against the couch cushions, one arm draped loosely aroundme because I’d put myself there and he hadn’t complained. Kade went out to pick up a few things we needed, promising he wouldn’t be long. The credits roll now, color shifting over the dark screen, and I stay pressed to Skylar’s side, listening to him breathe while trying to convince my body that nothing’s wrong.
It doesn’t listen.
The first sign is small enough that I almost miss it. A slow tightening low in my stomach, familiar in shape but wrong in timing, the kind of pull that usually only comes when my cycle is close. I shift against Skylar’s side, careful not to wake him, hoping the movement will ease whatever my body has decided to start.
It only sharpens.
Heat blooms under my skin too quickly, sudden enough that my breath catches. My scent changes before I can stop it, vanilla turning richer and sweeter until the air around us feels warmer than it did a minute ago. I press my face into Skylar’s shoulder and breathe through the first rush, waiting for it to settle, waiting for my body to realize it’s too early and pull itself back into sense.
