Chapter 7
LILA
The knock comes hours after Finn left me at Flynn's Inn with instructions to pack and catch the morning ferry.
I'm still at my microscope, still cataloging impossibilities, still trying to reconcile a dragon with everything I know about biological science. The algae samples glow under the lens, bioluminescent patterns that match nothing in any database I've accessed.
"Dr. Mercer." The voice through the door carries authority that makes my spine straighten automatically. "We need to talk."
I cross to the door, hand hesitating on the knob. After watching a man transform into a dragon, after the attack, Finn told me to leave the island—like running would somehow make any of this less real—caution seems appropriate.
I open the door.
Four men stand in the narrow hallway behind Finn. They fill the space with the kind of presence that has nothing to do with physical size and everything to do with barely leashed violence. Predators. Every one of them. The air thickens with tension that raises the fine hairs on my arms.
Finn's jaw is tight, his eyes carrying a warning I don't know how to read. "They insisted."
"The Brotherhood." The man at the front steps forward, and the others shift in response like a coordinated unit. Dark hair, cold eyes, the kind of stance that suggests he's used to being obeyed without question. "I'm Declan. We need to discuss what you saw tonight and what happens next."
My scientist brain kicks into overdrive, cataloging details the way I would studying apex predators in the field. Threat assessment. Behavioral patterns. Survival strategy.
Declan moves with predator economy, each gesture precise and minimal. The authority radiates off him in waves—not assumed, earned through something I don't want to imagine. Alpha. But not the only one in this hallway.
The massive man to his left doesn't fit through doorways without turning sideways. Shoulders like a linebacker, hands that could crush bone, but his eyes carry something thoughtful beneath the raw power. Blunt force wrapped in careful control.
The third is leaner, sharp-featured, with the kind of fluid grace that marks ambush hunters. He watches me with eyes that seem to catalog weaknesses, measure response times, calculate exactly how fast I could move before he struck.
The fourth stands slightly apart from the others, and there's something about him that makes my eyes want to slide away. Shadow and smoke seem to cling to him despite the hallway's electric lighting. Like darkness condensed into human form.
And Finn. Dragon. The one who saved me. The one who told me to run.
"May we come in?" Declan's question isn't really a question.
I step back because refusing five apex predators seems tactically unsound.
They file into my small room at Flynn's Inn, and suddenly the space feels claustrophobic.
Too many large bodies. Too much concentrated danger.
The testosterone and otherworldly energy make the air feel charged, electric, like the moment before lightning strikes.
I retreat behind my desk, putting furniture between us like that would matter if they decided I was a threat. My hands want to shake. I force them still.
"You saw Finn transform." Declan doesn't waste time with pleasantries. "You know what we are."
"I saw something that violates every principle of conservation of mass and energy I understand.
" The words come out steadier than I feel.
"I saw a man become a dragon in the space of a heartbeat, which shouldn't be biologically possible.
And now five of you are standing in my room at three in the morning, which suggests this conversation is about threat assessment. "
"Smart." The massive man's voice carries approval beneath the rumble. "She's already processing the tactical implications."
"She's terrified." The lean predator tilts his head, studying me like I'm prey that might bolt. "Heart rate elevated. Breathing shallow. But she's staying anyway."
"Because running won't help." I meet his eyes despite every instinct screaming to look away. "If you wanted me dead, I'd already be dead. So this is either recruitment, interrogation, or warning. Which is it?"
Finn's expression shifts, something that might be pride flickering through the dark intensity.
His presence fills the corner he's claimed near the window, arms crossed, every line of his body radiating tension.
The dragon coils beneath his skin—I can see it now that I know what to look for.
The otherworldly stillness. The way he doesn't breathe quite right.
The sense that human form is a costume he wears over something vast and terrible.
Our eyes meet across the room, and heat floods through me despite the fear. Despite the danger. Despite four other predators watching the exchange with varying degrees of interest.
His jaw tightens. The muscle jumps beneath stubble that shouldn't be attractive when I'm this close to passing out from adrenaline. But my body doesn't care about tactical wisdom. It remembers his hands on my waist, his body shielding mine, the way he moved between me and death without hesitation.
"Warning." Declan's voice cuts through the tension.
"You've stumbled into a war that's been fought in shadows for centuries.
The drownings you're investigating are ritual sacrifices.
The Russians who attacked you work for a larger organization that traffics in supernatural beings.
And by witnessing Finn's transformation, you've become either an asset or a liability depending on what you do next. "
"The morning ferry leaves at dawn." The shadow-touched man speaks for the first time, and his voice carries an unsettling quality. Like sound filtered through distance. "You should be on it."
"And if I'm not?" The question comes out before I can stop it.
"Then you're choosing to stay in a war zone." Declan crosses his arms. "With full knowledge of what that means."
The room goes silent except for the wind rattling the window and the distant crash of waves against cliffs. Five supernatural predators wait for my answer. Five creatures who could kill me before I could scream.
I look at Finn. He's watching me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle, makes my pulse spike for reasons that have nothing to do with fear. His eyes hold shadows and fire, centuries of violence and loss, a warning written in every taut line of his body.
Leave, his expression says. Run while you can.
But his hands are clenched at his sides, and I remember how they felt pulling me against him on the coastal path. Protective. Possessive. Mine.
"I'm staying." The words taste like recklessness and truth combined. "I came here to study the algae blooms and investigate the drownings. Knowing shifters are real doesn't change that. If anything, it confirms something supernatural is killing people."
"Stupid." The lean predator's assessment is clinical. "Brave, but stupid."
"Courageous." The massive man corrects. "There's a difference."
Declan studies me for a long moment, then nods. "Then you need to understand the rules. First, what you know about us stays confidential. No papers, no publications, no evidence that could expose the supernatural community to human authorities."
"Second," the lean predator continues, "stay away from the Russians. They're operating under orders from someone higher up the syndicate chain. Getting caught again means death or worse."
"Third." The shadow-touched voice makes me shiver. "If you're staying, you're under Brotherhood protection. Which means you follow instructions when given, and you don't investigate alone."
I nod slowly, processing the implications. "And fourth?"
"There is no fourth." Finn's voice cuts through the room like a blade. "Because you're leaving on the morning ferry whether you think you're staying or not."
The other four Brotherhood members exchange glances that might be amusement.
"That's not your call." I meet his eyes across the room, refusing to back down despite everything screaming that challenging a dragon is suicidal. "I'm an adult. I make my own decisions about risk assessment."
"You're a human surrounded by shifters." His voice drops to something rough and dangerous. "Making decisions based on incomplete data about threats you can't comprehend."
"Then give me complete data." I step around the desk, closing distance despite the warning in his expression. "Stop trying to scare me away and start treating me like someone capable of understanding what I'm walking into."
The air between us charges with something that makes the massive man clear his throat and the lean predator smile like he's watching something entertaining.
"We should go." Declan moves toward the door. "Let Finn handle the rest of this conversation."
They file out, each one pausing to assess me one more time. The massive man nods. The lean predator smirks. The shadow-touched one disappears like he was never fully there. Declan stops in the doorway.
"He's trying to protect you." His voice carries the weight of someone who's watched Finn for centuries. "From himself as much as external threats. Don't make it harder than it already is."
Then they're gone, and it's just Finn and me in a room that suddenly feels too small and too charged with everything we're not saying.
"You need to leave." His voice is rough. "Before this gets worse."
"Define worse."
His eyes flash with something that might be dragon fire. "You really want that answer, Dr. Mercer?"
The way he says my title sounds like a challenge and a warning wrapped together. My pulse spikes, and from the way his nostrils flare, he knows exactly what effect he's having on me.
"I stayed through a shifter confrontation." I force my voice steady. "I think I can handle one more impossible conversation."
The corner of his mouth twitches. Not quite a smile. Definitely dangerous.