She'd saved him too. He could still taste her lily-sweet blood on his tongue. It had found him, healed him, just when he needed it most. Her strength, her power, her love.
Their bond had defied death, and he had never felt so humbled by anything before in all his days. He loved this woman - his woman, his eternal mate. He needed her more than air, more than anything else this life could give him. His heart swelled with love for her, reborn and renewed, beating as hard and strong as a drum.
Mira stirred beside him, coming awake on a soft sigh. She wore the same black fatigues she'd had on when he last saw her, but they were bed-rumpled now, stained in places with his blood. Her blond braid was a wreck, more loose than not, pale hair framing her face in wispy tendrils. He'd never seen a more welcome sight.
She lifted her head, sucked in a shallow gasp as she looked at him and saw his eyes open, gazing back at her. "Kellan . . . Oh, God. You're awake. You came back to me." He smiled but had no chance to speak before Mira crushed his mouth in a fierce kiss. She drew back and stared at him, her eyes dancing behind the purple veil of her lenses. "You're really here with me."
He managed a nod before she kissed him again, more tenderly this time, her hands cupping his face. She kept looking at him, searching his eyes, drinking him in with open joy and affection. Then she scowled, hissing a dark curse. "Don't you ever leave me again, Kellan Archer."
"Never," he vowed, his voice thick and rusty.
Her scowl deepened. "If you do, I promise you, right here and now, I will hunt you down and kill you myself. Do you understand?"
He smiled and pulled her closer. "Yes, ma'am."
His body was already back online, blood pumping robustly through his veins. Under the sheet that covered his naked body, his muscles flexed, rejuvenated and ready to be put to use. Something else was ready too, and it took Mira only a second to notice that every bit of him was awake and alive.
"You're unbelievable," she murmured, but there was humor - and no small amount of interest - in her eyes. "You have at least two dozen bullet holes in you, in case you didn't realize that."
He didn't, and, in fact, he hardly felt the bandaged wounds now. All he felt was his Breedmate, his precious Mira, warm and sweet in his arms. He ran his hand down her back, to the firm curve of her behind. He groaned, rejoicing in the feel of her under his hands, and pressed up against the length of him. "One of us has too many clothes on."
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 - "