THE BROKEN BOND

BROKEN CONTROL

I find Kael in his office at dawn.

I don't knock. I just walk in, still wearing the sleep clothes he provided, my hair a mess, my eyes burning from lack of sleep. He's sitting at his desk reviewing reports, and he looks up the moment I enter—like he was expecting me.

"Isla."

"Marcus is getting orders from someone," I say without preamble. "Last night, around midnight. He was on his phone, talking about getting to me. About my capabilities."

Kael sets down his pen slowly. "You followed him."

"I heard him leave his room. I listened."

"You could have been caught."

"But I wasn't." I move closer to his desk. "Are you angry?"

"Yes." He stands, moves around to lean against the front of his desk. "Not because you took a risk. Because you didn't trust me enough to just tell me what you suspected. You had to confirm it first."

"I couldn't trust you until I knew for sure," I say. "I've been betrayed before."

"By people who claimed to love you?"

"By people who claimed they'd protect me," I correct. "There's a difference."

Kael is quiet for a moment. Then he reaches out, takes my hand. The contact sends electricity through my entire body.

"I need you to hear this," he says quietly. "I will never lie to you. I will never hurt you intentionally. And I will never ask you to trust me blindly. But Isla—" He pulls me closer, until I'm standing directly in front of him. "—I need you to try. I need you to trust me enough to let me know when you're scared. When you're doubting. When you think someone is a threat. Can you do that?"

"What if I get it wrong?" I ask. "What if I trust you and you betray me anyway?"

"Then I'll deserve whatever comes next." His hand comes up to cup my face. "But I won't betray you, Isla. I'm betting everything on that."

"That's a stupid bet," I whisper.

"Probably." He steps closer, and suddenly there's no space between us. "Marcus will be dealt with today. Cassidy has been building a case against him for months. Your information just gives us the final piece we need. By tonight, he'll be gone."

"You're going to kill him."

"Yes."

The matter-of-fact way he says it should horrify me. Should send my instincts screaming to run. But all I feel is relief. Marcus is a threat that's about to be neutralized. Marcus is one less person working to destroy Kael.

"Okay," I say.

"Okay?" Kael's lips curve slightly. "That easy?"

"You're the alpha king of your territory. You're not going to execute someone without cause. And Marcus gave us cause." I reach up, place my hand against his chest. I can feel his heart racing. "I trust you. I'm choosing to trust you."

Something shifts in his expression. Something dangerous and protective and utterly possessive.

"Isla." My name is a warning and a prayer.

"I know," I say. "I know what this is. I know what it means if I let this happen. I know—"

He kisses me before I can finish.

It's not gentle. It's not careful. It's a claiming, pure and simple—his mouth demanding, his hands pulling me closer, his entire body communicating ownership in a way that should make my wolf rebel.

Instead, my wolf sings.

I respond without thinking, my hands threading through his hair, my body pressing against his. Three days of tension and chemistry and careful distance explodes between us. His hands slide down to my ass, lifting me, and I wrap my legs around him without hesitation.

"This is a bad idea," he says against my mouth, even as he carries me toward the couch in the corner of his office.

"Definitely," I agree, kissing him harder.

He sets me down carefully—mindful of my healing ribs—and I pull away from his mouth just enough to speak.

"I'm not your mate," I say. "Just so we're clear. This isn't fated. This isn't destiny."

"I know." His hands are already working the buttons on his shirt. "This is choice. Your choice. Tell me to stop and I will."

"Don't stop."

He doesn't.

After, we're tangled together on his couch, my head on his chest, his arm around me. My ribs are sore but not broken—the healing is nearly complete. Everything else feels perfect.

"We should talk about this," Kael says.

"We should," I agree. "But not yet."

"Okay." His hand traces lazy patterns on my bare shoulder. "For the record—that wasn't just physical for me."

"I know," I say. "For me either."

"So what happens now?" he asks.

"Now you get up and execute a traitor. And I..." I trail off. "I wait. I trust you. I try not to panic about what happens next."

"And after that?"

"After that, we figure it out. Together."

Kael is quiet for a long moment. "You're going to have to tell me about the last person who hurt you. The one who made trust so difficult."

"Eventually," I say. "But not today."

"Fair enough." He kisses my forehead. "I have to go. Cassidy needs me for the operation against Marcus. You'll stay in the compound?"

"Where else would I go?"

"That's not an answer."

I lift my head to look at him. "Yes. I'll stay. I'll trust that you know what you're doing. I'll trust that you'll come back."

Relief floods his face. "Thank you."

After he leaves, I shower and change into clean clothes. I make my way to the kitchen and find Elias making coffee.

"Morning," he says, taking one look at my swollen lips and slightly disheveled hair, and smiling knowingly. "You and Kael finally—"

"Don't," I interrupt, but I'm smiling. "Not discussion material."

"Fair," he says, handing me a coffee. "But for what it's worth—I haven't seen him look at anyone like that since before his mate rejected him. You're good for him."

"Or I'm going to destroy him," I say.

"That too," Elias acknowledges. "Love is a risk either way."

"This isn't love," I say quickly.

"Not yet," Elias agrees. "But give it time."

By evening, it's done.

Marcus is dead. Cassidy's team caught him trying to leave the compound with a encrypted hard drive full of information—blueprints for the compound, records of meetings, notes on my abilities. He fought. He lost.

Kael comes to find me in the library where I've been trying unsuccessfully to read all day. He's covered in blood—not all of it his—and he looks exhausted.

"It's over," he says simply.

I stand, walk to him, and kiss him. It's softer than this morning's kiss but no less meaningful.

"You came back," I say.

"I said I would."

"People say things."

"I'm not people," Kael says. "I'm your alpha. And I keep my promises."

There's something possessive in that statement that I should probably object to. But I'm too busy being relieved that he's alive. That we're both alive. That this fragile, terrifying thing building between us is still intact.

"Go shower," I tell him. "I'll wait."

"You'll be here when I get back?"

"Yes," I say. "I'll be here."

And I mean it in a way that feels dangerous and real. I mean it in a way that says I'm choosing this. Choosing him. Choosing to believe that maybe, finally, someone won't let me down.