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All he knew was the warm cushion of her body beneath him on the bed, her limbs still tangled around his, her fingers playing in the hair at his nape while he rested his head next to her shoulder.
It was her quiet voice that brought him back to the here and now.
Back to the reality of what they still faced.
"I don't want you to go to the Order." He felt her worry in the dull throb of her pulse, in the tang of dread that filtered through their new bond, into him. "I've changed my mind, Kellan. About wanting you to plead your case, trying to convince the Order and the Council to pardon you. I don't want you to go anywhere near D.C. Neither one of us can ever go back there."
"Ah, Mouse." He kissed the bare curve of her shoulder, then came up on one elbow so he could meet her troubled gaze. "You don't mean that. You've never been one to run and hide. That was always more my territory, remember? And look where that's gotten us."
"I don't care," she murmured, a stubborn edge to her tone. "Let's just stay here, like this. For as long as we can, let's just be together and make this last. Whatever it takes."
He kissed her again, on the mouth this time, unrushed and tender. "I don't want this to end either. Not now or ever. But I don't want it if it means forcing you into a life of skulking in shadows and fearing what lies around every corner. I can't do that, Mira. And we can't stay here. It's not safe for any of us now. We all have to get out of here soon, go to another location. Somewhere out of the line of fire."
"Where?"
"Somewhere safe."
His dread about the Order closing in on him was still very real and disturbing. And the prospect of either a stealth death squad or, after last night's turn of events, a full-scale invasion was more than he was willing to risk. A sick guilt weighed down on him when he thought of Candice and Doc and Nina coming under heavy weapons fire amid the chaos of a raid. As for Mira, he knew his Breedmate well enough to realize that she would fight to her own death if she thought she could save him.
As he would for her.
And would, in a short time from now.
He hadn't been much of a leader to his crew of rebels, not that it had ever been his intent to lead them. He hadn't been anything close to a worthy mate to Mira either, and that he wanted more than anything.
But he still had time to do right by them all. He could put measures in place that would ensure a minimum risk of injury or bloodshed to his Breedmate and his friends. Only then would he be ready to do what he needed to do - confront the fate that waited for him at the other end of this increasingly inescapable path.
His plan took shape with resolute clarity as he took Mira's hand in his, stroking his fingers over the perfectly healed heart of her palm. "We'll leave as soon as possible this morning."
She frowned up at him. "In the daylight?"
"As soon as we can," he reiterated. Now that he knew what needed to be done, he wanted the plan in motion. "Nina has friends who can get us a vehicle, no questions asked. I'll ride in back, out of the sun's reach. One of my crew can do the driving. We can be there in a few hours."
Mira was staring at him, a question in her muted gaze. "You're taking me with you?"
"I want you safe," he said, lifting her chin to meet his kiss. "You're mine now, remember?"
"I'm yours." Her smile nearly broke his heart, it was so pure and trusting. She burrowed deep into the curve of his body, molding herself to him. "Don't let go, Kellan. Promise me you won't let go."
"I won't let go, Mouse." He wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she snuggled tighter and her breathing slowed to a contented rhythm.
And in that moment, he was glad for the absence of her link into his emotions.
Because if she'd been bonded to him by blood, she would have understood no matter how much he wished he could keep that promise to her, before the next dawn, she would know it had been just a pretty lie.
Chapter Nineteen
BY NIGHTFALL, NO LESS THAN A DOZEN MEMBERS OF THE Order had descended upon Boston.
Nathan led a unit comprised of his team of three and Mira's squad, Bal, Torin, and Webb, who'd come in from Montreal to aid in her recovery. While Nathan and his crew scoured the old North End for leads on the rebels who held her, the other side of the city was getting a shakedown by Nikolai, along with Tegan, Hunter, and Rio, diverted from the D.C. headquarters and joined by Sterling Chase, director of the Boston command center.
To a man, they'd all vowed that dawn would not come without Mira being brought safely back into the fold of her family of the Order.
That pledge was cold water in Nathan's veins as he and Rafe Malebranche split off from Eli and Jax and Mira's three teammates, taking their search into establishments known to be friendly to rebels and their ilk. The club La Notte was their first stop, given that Rooster was a regular at the illegal arena there.
Nathan and Rafe walked in together, both warriors scanning the crowd. Upward of a hundred people were partying inside, clad mostly in black leather and heavy eyeliner, convulsing to the grinding pulse of an industrial rock band screaming about pain and betrayal onstage. Goth girls and punks, most of them human. All harmless clubbers. No sign of the criminal element Nathan was currently searching for.
As he and Rafe sliced through the churning throng, Nathan noticed La Notte's proprietor eyeing them with less than enthusiastic regard. Cassian broke away from a pair of attractive women easily a decade too young for him and strode toward Nathan. He was dressed like many of his patrons, in head-to-toe black leather and heavy lug-soled boots. Tonight his cropped hair was a crown of gelled spikes, his bright green eyes accentuated by dark brows, each pierced by a pair of tiny silver rings. A black stud was stuck through the tip of his tongue.
