He breathes hard through his nose. “Are you mated already?”

A tremor works down my spine. “What?” How does he know about Tommy? Apart from the pictures of me and Dad, there shouldn’t be anything in this house pointing to that demon.

His nostrils flare and his eyes darken. “A male was here.”

A ma—? Fear sinks from my stomach down to my feet, twisting and churning. The food and drinks turn into bile.

“H-how do you know?” Dread seeps into my bloodstream like poison.

“I smell him.”

No, no, no.

“Let go of me,” I rasp.

Ordus hesitates. He must sense my panic, because he quickly releases me.

I scramble for my workroom in search of my laptop. It isn’t here. Fuck. Where did I put it? I tip the laundry off the couch, then try my bedside tables before moving to my go bags.

It’s not there. Neither are my passports.

He’s found me. Tommy’s found me.

Fuck.

I rip open the curtains. Where the hell is the car?

My feet thud against the tile as I scramble outside. Why are the wheels missing from my bike?

My phone. I need to check my phone.

I tear the house apart, emptying out my bags, turning over furniture, checking pockets. Where the fuck is my phone?

My eyes dart up to the cameras hidden around the room. Undisturbed. Without my phone or laptop, I have no way of knowing who broke in—but they would’ve been scrubbed the second the timer went off, and I didn’t type in the disarm code.

Shit. Shit. Shit. What should I do?

Was the door’s alarm beeping before we got here, or did it only start when Ordus tried it?

What if it was Tommy’s brother, John? He’s the worst of the two. I’ve never seen a genuine smile on his wife. She always wore long sleeves to hide the bruises that would peek through if she raised her arms.

I don’t know any of the pirates by name, but I’ve seen faces. What if it’s one of them? I mean, if it were, they wouldn’t be fucking with my head by only taking two items. My house would be empty or destroyed.

It wouldn’t have been some random person either—who came for my tires and personal electronics, but left the TV and wallet sitting on my bedside table?

I tip over the mattress. Nothing. It’s a small place. There’s nowhere else it could be. I scrub a hand down my face, ignoring Ordus’ calls, the wedge driving deeper into my soul as I feel the phantom pains from the horrors the Gallaghers would rain down on me.

But right now, there’s only one thing standing between me, the Gallaghers, and freedom.

I zero in on the gun lying on the floor. I could shoot Ordus and get out of here, finally be free of him and this whole mate bullshit.

But I hesitate.

I stare at the weapon, imagining its weight in my hands as I aim for his head. I feel my finger press against the trigger, the recoil rippling up my arms.

I can’t do it. Why can’t I do it?

I can’t bring myself to grab the gun and put a bullet through the monster’s skull. The thought alone makes my chest constrict.

A cry tears when I’m swept off my feet and spun to face a hard, bare chest. And it’s like a dam burst. I couldn’t stop myself even if I tried. I kick and shriek, sink my nails into anything I can reach. He keeps saying my name. The wrong one. Or is it the right one? Cindi.

Every time I blink, there’s a different person holding me.

Tommy.

Ordus.

Tommy.

John.

My arms become plastered to my sides. I throw every ounce of my power into throwing them off, but each failed attempt sends my panic rocketing to new heights.

“You can’t take me!” I’d rather die than go back.

“Cindi,” Ordus repeats. Puckering tentacles tighten around me.

Tentacles.

Ordus. Not Tommy. Ordus.

Even though my body is stiff, battling with all my might, he easily contorts me to his whim, cradling me against his chest so I have no choice but to feel the vibrations of his purr against my cheek. My lungs expand with my sharp inhales. His sea breeze scent washes over me. The sounds coming from him hit like a bucket of warm water, drenching my coiled muscles, dampening my twisted sobs.

His large hands are firm around my back, keeping me steady in place. Suckers pulse where our skin touches. The same misbehaving tentacle travels up and down my body in a soothing caress. A storm cloud drifts into my mind that turns my thoughts into fuzzy static.

Adrenaline ebbs out of me, dwindling my fight with each minute until I’m nothing more than a pile of sweat, bone, and tears in the arms of a monster.

A monster who has done nothing but try to take care of me in his own twisted way. Trying to feed me. Fussing over the wounds on my feet that have healed over. Putting a paste on my sunburned skin when I was sleeping. Using his limbs as cushioning against the hard rock.

“Cindi, tell me what is wrong.”

I blink my bleary eyes up at him, expecting to be seared by his rage. I never dared have any kind of meltdown in front of Tommy. The only time I did was when Dad died, and I vaguely remembered the flash of white teeth as he curled his lips before leaving me on the floor to “sort out my own mess.”

Tears trickle freely down my cheek. The signs were there. Why did I ignore them? How did I completely miss all the red flags when I was raised surrounded by green? I’ll never understand.

“What…” I start, scrambling to disperse the wool from my brain to get my shit together and come up with some kind of plan. “What do you smell?”

Ordus’ nostrils flare. The tips of his canines catch the glint of the afternoon sun. “A male. The scent is old.” He works his jaw. He appears so human when he does this, even with the gills and the webbed ears. “Who is it?”

Tommy’s name catches in my throat, but saying it makes it true. “I can’t stay here. I need to leave the country.” I don’t want to, but what choice do I have? They’ll follow me to the ends of the Earth. I just have to keep running. “They’ve found me.”

“Who is after you?” he repeats, ocean-blue eyes intent, bordering on obsessive. The rumble in his voice betrays him—a tidal wave stews beneath the surface, intent on destroying everything in its path.

A foreign warmth unfurls low in my core. It’s strange, having someone’s rage directed at something other than me. For me. With me.

But it’s not enough, and I’m not selfish enough to drag him into my mess.

“It doesn’t matter who. You need to let me go,” I plead, imagining what people would do to him. He isn’t human. I’m sure the Gallaghers would sell him to someone to be tested and experimented on. They would break him until he’s barely even a shell.

I can’t let that happen. I won’t. I may not know Ordus very well, and he may be my jailer, but he doesn’t deserve that kind of fate. He isn’t…he isn’t evil.

“They have guns. The best-case scenario is, they kill you and do far worse to me.”

“I can keep you safe. Trust me, mate.”

“You can’t.” I shake my head, struggling in his grip. He can’t possibly know that. “You can’t help me. You can’t save me.” He carefully lowers me to my feet, keeping one tentacle firm around my waist. “I made the decision to marry him. I’m the one who decided to kill him instead of leaving without a trace. I made my bed; I need to lie in it. There’s nothing you can do to help. I need to leave.”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t bother singing the same ol’ tune he’s been saying since the moment he captured me. He reaches behind him and passes me a waterproof bag I bought when I was delusional enough to think I could go kayaking. “Take everything you need. We will return to the island.”

I jerk my head side to side. “That’s not what I meant.” He’s not understanding me. This is serious.

Ordus holds the bag to the side. For the second time today, when he reaches for my face, I let him. I should be screaming, fighting, throwing everything I have into making him realize the magnitude of the threat. I shouldn’t be seeking comfort from the creature who decided I’m his prisoner. I shouldn’t let him touch me when I watched him kill three men in cold blood. I hate that weak, pathetic part of me that still doesn’t have the strength to draw away from him.