He wanted to lighten the moment, and, yeah, he was glad as hell to be alive and breathing again - best of all, to be doing it lying next to the woman with whom he hoped to spend a good long eternity. So glad he could think of no better way to celebrate the occasion than burying himself deep within the haven of Mira's delectable body.
But she was having none of it right now. She levered herself up on one elbow beside him, all serious. Her gaze was sober, her breath shaky as she let out a quiet curse. "I thought I lost you today, Kellan. I watched you die. I felt it." A crease formed between her light brows, eyes lowering as she slowly shook her head. "I wanted to hate you for surrendering yourself back at the Darkhaven in Maine. I think I did hate you for that, just a little. I wanted to make our time together last, and you took that away from me. From both of us."
He caressed her face and silky hair, swallowed on a dry throat. "I didn't mean to hurt you again. I didn't want to see you throw away your past - throw away your family - the way I had done. I didn't want you to face the same kind of impossible decision I did. I didn't want you to make my mistake."
"I know that now," she said, lightly stroking her fingers over his wounded chest. "It took almost losing you for good to understand what you'd done for me that night." She glanced back up at him, mouth twisted wryly. "That doesn't mean I'm not still pissed, by the way."
He arched a brow, let his hand drift down her arm, then along the swell of her breast. "I look forward to making it up to you." Then, tenderly, he lifted her chin and kissed her, unrushed and reverent. "You're mine, Mira. I love you. I should've told you that a hundred times before. I'm not going to blow that chance again. I have a second chance, and I'm going to make it right."
"We do have a second chance," she murmured softly. "But where will we begin? You're dead, Kellan. You and Bowman both. It's been reported all over the country, probably all over the world. The public wanted their vengeance, and the GNC was all too eager to tell them justice had been served."
He considered for a long moment. "Candice and Doc and Nina . . . ?"
"Lucan released them this morning, before you were brought in front of the Council. They would've heard by now that you were shot and killed." She stared at him, a fierce intensity in her eyes. "No one outside the Order can ever know any different, or your life will be in danger all over again. I can't bear that kind of worry. Not ever again."
"I won't ask you to," he said, smoothing away the tension around her pretty mouth. He exhaled sharply, sardonic. "Do you think you can love a ghost?"
"I loved one for eight years."
"So you did. Thank God you did." He caressed her cheek, the desire he felt for her flaring even brighter when he thought of how faithful she'd been to him. Steadfast and strong. She'd been his partner always, in every way. After all they'd been through, he wasn't about to let a little thing like death stand between them and their future together.
And he wasn't about to let anyone hurt Mira or the others he cared about. Which meant his new mission had become doing whatever he had to in order to bring down Benson and uncover the truth behind the name that the corrupt councilman had given in Kellan's final conscious moments at the hearing.
Opus Nostrum.
Kellan sat up, his blood pounding at the sudden recollection of Benson's guilt.
"What's wrong?" Mira asked, rising with him. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and she crawled behind him. "What are you doing?"
"I need to talk to Lucan."
"About what?"
"Benson." He stood up, expecting to feel weak or wobbly, but his legs held strong, bolstered by his Breedmate's blood. Even his wounds felt insignificant. He peeled one of the bandages away and found the bullet hole healed over, puckered and pink but already growing new skin. Kellan unwrapped the rest and tossed the dressings into a nearby trash bin. Someone had left a pair of sweats and a T-shirt on the table beside the bed. Kellan hastily put the pants on. "Lucan needs to hear what I found out from Benson today."
"You told him," Mira said. She came around in front of him and carefully smoothed her fingers over his healing wounds. "If you're talking about Opus Nostrum, whatever that is, Lucan is already looking into it. You gave him that intel just before you - "
"There's more, Mira. We need to bring Benson in. He's got information about some kind of attack that's being planned, one that involves Ackmeyer's Morningstar technology. We need to interrogate the bastard ASAP."
She gave him a funny look, then shook her head. "Benson's dead. He was killed by the same JUSTIS officers who shot you. They murdered him execution style in a back hallway of the GNC building when he was trying to get away."
Ah, f**k.
Kellan grabbed the T-shirt and shrugged into it. "Lucan needs to know what's going on. I have to see him right now."
"You can't." Mira shook her head. "He's gone. He left with Gabrielle and the rest of the Order and their mates some time ago. Everyone's at the peace summit gala tonight."
The peace summit.
Realization sank in with sharp, icy talons.
"It's going to happen at the gala," Kellan murmured. "When I read Benson, his guilt was over the fact that Opus Nostrum had killed Ackmeyer because of his UV technology and that many more people were going to die because of it too - all under the guise of peace. They're going to use Morningstar as a weapon at the gala tonight."
Lucan's grip was tight on his comm unit as he ended the call with Mira. His curse, vicious and nasty. It drew an aghast inhalation from the Breedmate of a visiting ambassador, who'd been blathering on endlessly to Gabrielle and Gideon's mate, Savannah, for the past twenty minutes about her latest art acquisitions. The female gaped at Lucan, who returned the look with a dark scowl, too distracted by troubling news to be bothered with playing the pleasant party guest.