24. Kaden

Chapter 24

Kaden

I 'm back at the mansion, pacing the basement like a fucking caged animal. Sasha's taking a shower, and Chowder's in the kitchen, eating his weight in food. She was all worked up after the attack, and I didn't want to discuss the situation until we got back, not when we were so exposed in the parking area. I needed to get us home, to know she and Chowder were safe, before I started dealing with this shit.

The basement is cool and dark, the air thick with the scent of salt and the distant roar of the fjord just outside. It calms me, the water and the stone. I stroll around the enormous room, past the table Sasha jokingly calls the sacrificial stand. It makes me grin every time, the way she teases me about it. But right now, my thoughts are a tangled mess of questions with no answers.

Lilia.

She's involved with Sasha somehow and has put out a threat on her to leave town. What the fuck for? What threat does Sasha pose to her? What am I damn missing?

I think back to the vision in the car, the one that was different from the previous ones. My grandfather was alone down here in this same basement, and then suddenly, he was heading down a set of dark steps into a hidden area. Inside was a room filled with books he'd written in, line after line of names that made no sense. He was mumbling about a pendant, furious, throwing things about, books strewn everywhere. Frantic and scared. I'd never seen him that way before.

I feel like I'm close to something, something that involves Lilia and somehow Sasha, too, which is the part that boggles my mind. Why her? What connection does she have to this whole mess? And is it connected to my grandfather ending up in Tartarus?

I'm in the back of the basement, the stone walls cool and solid under my hands. The entire place is polished stone—floor, walls, ceiling. Paintings grace some of the walls, ships at sea, mermaids in the water, krakens drowning sailors.

I go around the walls, patting them, pushing, trying to find the hidden door I saw in the vision. It has to be here, right? Frustration gnaws at me.

I don't remember Grandfather ever telling me about a secret room in the mansion. He told me about the place being grand, about the entrance to the fjord for an easy escape, but not about this room. There must be something he didn't want anyone to find.

I search every inch of the walls, looking for a trigger or a hidden latch, anything to reveal the room. But by the end, I tense, not finding anything.

I'm not giving up. I'll find this damn room. There are still rooms upstairs I haven't touched, some with my grandfather's items, and maybe there's something up there that'll give me a clue.

Upstairs, back in the main part of the mansion, I enter the living room, only to catch a quick glimpse of aquamarine hair and a bare leg disappearing down the hallway from the bathroom. I grin, unable to help myself, and go after my beauty.

I find her in the bedroom, her back to me as she pulls a pair of jeans up over that beautiful curved ass. She grabs a lace bra, fastening it before she turns and startles at the sight of me.

"Fuck, warn someone before sneaking around like a damn stalker," she scolds, her eyes narrowing playfully.

"I didn't want to ruin the perfect moment," I reply, my gaze locked on the way those lace cups hold her breasts in place.

"Hey, eyes up here," she says, lifting an eyebrow.

"Oh, I know," I reply, grinning. I can't stop studying her bra, knowing it's slightly transparent, trying to make out her nipples.

She drags a shirt down over her head, covering herself, and I groan, unable to get enough of staring at her. She's perfect in every way.

She rolls her eyes, but I can tell she's amused by my persistence, a playful grin on her mouth.

I find myself captivated by the little things—like the way the water droplets cling to her skin.

"We've got shit to talk about. This Lilia business," she says. Her expression shifts, worry creasing her brow. I can see her mind turning, and I nod in agreement.

I flop down on the bed, patting the mattress for her to join me.

She laughs softly and sits close. The fish in the glass aquarium at the end of the bed swim closer as though they're fascinated by my every move, their eyes fixed on me with an unblinking stare.

"Seems you have a fan base," she jokes, nodding toward the aquarium.

"They'll go away soon enough," I reply, watching as they continue to hover as if they're captivated. Her hand is warm against mine, and I stroke it gently.

"Tell me more about Lilia?" she asks, her gaze lifting to mine. "Why would she want me out of the city? And how is that connected to you, to Chowder?"

"Lilia was my grandfather's partner for the business they ran," I explain, thinking back to what little I know. "From what I understand, it was something about imports and exports by sea, but he rarely spoke about it to me. I've seen in my visions that he and Lilia didn't always see eye to eye on things."

"I remember meeting her at the wharf," she says, her brow furrowing in thought. "Maybe it's a coincidence that I asked her questions about sirens attacking sailors, and I remember she got hostile with me. But she left it at that… Oh, and I had Chowder with me, and she saw him. No idea what that means except that she knew about Chowder after I met with her."

She gnaws on her lower lip, and I can see the gears churning behind her gaze.

"Lilia holds the answers to everything we need to know."

"Do you think she's in cahoots with that asshole Zane, who tortured Chowder? Otherwise, I can't understand why she'd want Chowder and me out of town." She blinks, looking at me, as confused as I feel. "Maybe she runs a mercenary company, and dickhead Zane put a threat against me… I mean, it would make sense after I burned down his warehouse."

I listen, trying to piece it all together, but the puzzle is mostly gaps right now.

"I suspect that somehow it's all connected, and maybe with my grandfather… Don't ask me how, but something feels really off," I say, then think of the lists of names in my vision with my grandfather. "Something happened with her and my grandfather, and he was involved in something, in trouble. But the only way to find out is to track her and this asshole Zane down."

"You think he's in town? I assumed he hired her all the way from South Africa, seeing as that was where I last saw him," she explains, her voice tight.

I study her, the way she appears when she thinks, how her brows furrow in concentration. It's cute, endearing, and I take in every word she says.

"Zane might be easier to track down than Lilia, and he might lead us straight to her. So lay it on me. I need to know everything about him."

She swivels to face me more, a leg bent between us. She rattles off his full name, details about the psychopath he is, and the animal-trafficking ring he was running, along with his description and a bunch more info I didn't need to know about his broken past. She's passionate and furious at him, but I also sense a flicker of fear from her shaking hands.

"He can't take Chowder back, ever. I'll kill him myself before I allow that to happen," she states.

I take her into my arms, sensing how tense her body is. "I promise I'll keep you both protected."

She pulls back, blinking more, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I keep thinking about the whole siren incident and my mother. Could this be related to that? Is it someone who doesn't want me to find her?"

I ponder her words, a heavy silence settling between us. The thought worries me because why would someone try to hide a siren's actions?

"It's time we find out what that is," I say finally.

She nods, determination etching her features, and fire burns in her eyes.

I squeeze her hand. The room is silent except for the gentle bubbling of the aquarium filter. I watch her, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, the way she worries her lip as she thinks. I want to protect her from everything, from the dangers lurking in the shadows of our world.

"What if it's more than we can handle?" she whispers, her eyes meeting mine with a vulnerability that tugs at something deep inside me.

"There's nothing I can't handle, my little mermaid. Trust me," I reply firmly.

She leans into me, her head resting against my shoulder, and I hold her close, absorbing the warmth of her body. Her hair smells like the ocean, and I close my eyes, breathing her in.

"I'm going to start searching for Zane tomorrow," I admit, the decision settling in my bones like a promise. "It's late now to do anything, and after everything today, I'm going to make you dinner and give you a massage."

She eyes me, smirking, a playful light in her gaze. "You are?"

"Of course," I reply with a grin.

"Well, I'm not one to say no to a massage, especially a foot one. And maybe a bit of time to relax might be nice." She leans against me, and I kiss her brow, taking in her scent once more.

"I'm worried," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm happy I'm not alone."

I cup her cheeks, staring down at her, adoring her so much that it hurts.

"Do you realize how mental I'll go on anyone who dares to touch you? You are my world, Sasha, my everything. Around me, you don't need to be scared, okay?"

She smiles, a small, soft grin that lights up her eyes. She snuggles closer, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her tight. It feels right having her here in my arms.

"Come on," I say, pulling back slightly and taking her hand. "Let's get something to eat."

We head to the kitchen, and as we step inside, we find Chowder sprawled out at the table, patting his fat belly with a satisfied grin. Four empty sardine cans lie discarded in front of him, evidence of his feast.

"Looks like someone's had a good meal," I chuckle, reaching out to rub Chowder's head.

"He's always hungry," Sasha says with a laugh, shaking her head in amusement. "You're going to turn into a sardine one day, Chowder."

He chirps in response, looking utterly content. His little paws rest on his belly, and I'm laughing at the sight.

"Why would I become a sardine?"

She's laughing louder. "It's only a saying. I'm joking."

I chuckle as he studies her, clearly confused.

"All right, let's see what I can whip up," I say, moving to the counter where I'd left the mushrooms I bought just before we went to Finland. "How does mushroom and bacon carbonara sound?"

"Sounds delicious," Sasha replies, settling at the table, pulling out a deck of cards she found in the living room, and starts playing a game with Chowder, who watches her intently.

I start preparing the meal, the sound of boiling water and sizzling pans soon filling the kitchen. Sasha's laughter rings out as she plays with Chowder. The sound of laughter in my home is something I never thought I'd hear, something I didn't realize I needed until now. It fills the space, turning the cold stone and steel into something warmer, something more alive.

Watching her play with Chowder, seeing the way her eyes light up with joy, makes me realize more than ever how much I want a family with her. I want this laughter, this warmth, to be a permanent fixture in my life. I want to see her happy every day, to wake up beside her, to build a life with her.

The bacon sizzles in the pan, the rich aroma of garlic and butter filling the kitchen. I move around the space with ease, adding pasta to the hot water and stirring the creamy sauce.

As I cook, I think about the future, about what it would mean to have her by my side, to build something lasting together. It's more than a want; it's a need, a deep, primal urge to make her mine in every way possible.

I plate the food, carrying it over to the table where she and Chowder are still engrossed in their game. She looks up as I set the plates down, her eyes sparkling with delight.

"This looks amazing," she says, her gaze shifting from the food to me, warmth and gratitude in her eyes.

"And mine?" Chowder pipes up.

"Definitely," I say and bring his small plate of chopped up bacon. "Because you haven't eaten enough already."

His eyes are only for his serving.

We dig in, and for a while, everything else fades away. It's just us, sharing a meal, sharing a moment, and it feels perfect.

"This is heaven," she murmurs, her voice dreamy.

"I aim to please," I reply, smiling down at her.

At this moment, everything feels right. We might be facing an oncoming storm, but here, with her in my home, I know we can weather it. We have to because losing her is not an option. I'll fight for this—for her, for Chowder, for us—with everything I have.