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Date: December 6th 2036

Location: Reinsvoll airfield, Norway

Height: 1381 feet above sea level

Finn Jones waited patiently while his team mate said goodbye to his woman. The December air bit at his exposed skin with arctic ferocity laden with pine from the surrounding forest. Kathrine Sorland’s arms were wrapped around Nikolas Borostovlo’s neck, her diamond engagement ring flashing in the winter sun.

Finn cleared his throat, but his chest tightened. He was happy for Kathrine and Nik—damn right he was. After everything they’d been through, they deserved this. Kathrine had almost lost her life because of Triton Core.

But the kissing. The way Kathrine clung to Nik’s forearms, holding him there like he was the only thing that mattered.

Finn dragged in a slow breath, but it didn’t settle right. His fingers curled at his sides, an old tension tightening through his hands.

Memory pulled him under.

Not the soft hold of love. The iron grasp of terror. Nails biting into his skin. Bruises blooming beneath torn fabric. Blood on her cheek. The sharp edge of her breathing as she clutched at him, shaking. His voice, rough, saying her name, trying to preserve her modesty, pulling the tattered blouse across her chest.

But he’d been too late.

So he’d done the only thing he could—sent the bastard who assaulted her to the hospital.

His pulse spiked, his teeth meeting hard. In the end, the system hadn’t cared about right or wrong. Just about who threw the first punch.

He inhaled sharply, tearing his gaze away from Nik and Kathrine, and shoved the memories back down.

Not now. Not here.

“Guys.” He tapped his watch, cast his glance to his glider on the runway. “It would be good to catch some thermals today .”

Kathrine broke the kiss, giggling. “Sorry, Finn.”

Maybe if he gave them some space, they would get it out of their system.

He threw her a curt salute and turned his back on them. He headed toward his glider parked on the bleached concrete behind the white and blue Cessna Turbo, his boots crunching on the frost-dusted concrete. A distant prop plane droned, its sound carried away by the bitter wind that whistled through the tie-downs. The sleek white curves of his aircraft promised escape, the scent of heated leather and aviation fuel a cleaner memory than the one he was trying to forget.

His glider was real. Something he could control.

He ran a hand over the fuselage, waiting for his pulse to return to normal. Up there, nothing else mattered. No past. No regret. Just air and silence.

Flying was his sanctuary. The one thing that calmed him and made everything right, no matter how fucked up the world tried to be.

Which recently, thanks to Triton Core’s tactics, had involved significant fuckery. The bacteria they’d dredged up from the North Atlantic had spread through the oceans, and despite Kathrine’s team working on a solution, Triton kept finding new ways to weaponize it.

His hatred of bullies who manipulated the system ran deep, and he wouldn’t rest until he eliminated Triton and their prize bacteria. Triton Core and the Ceto bacteria would end. It was just a matter of time.

Time we don’t have.

He shook his head. This was why he needed to be in the air. The breathing space, the air and freedom.

To cut loose and just be.

But behind him, Nik was still wrapped around his woman like he hadn’t seen her for a month. He understood why Nik couldn’t keep his hands off her. Kathrine was an amazing woman. Whip smart, funny and an attractive package to boot. Last week Nik asked her to marry him and just like that, she was his fiancé . Fiancé. Man, that was a change for the books. For so long, all the Wolves had been single and now they were dropping like flies and all of them happier than ever.

Happier. Hmm.

Finn unlatched the bubble cockpit and tossed his backpack inside. Not that he wanted to follow suit. He’d learned the hard way—caring about people wasn’t a shield, it was a knife to the ribs. A distraction. And when you were distracted, when you cared, you got hurt .

Hell.

He liked his life uncomplicated and relationships, people , as far as he was concerned, were anything but.

He skimmed his hand along the glider’s sleek red and white striped side, letting the cold metal bind him to the present. “Hey, baby girl. I’ve got plans for you today.”

Yup. He definitely preferred his ladies with either wings or engines. Between his glider and the Gray Lady , the stealth class submarine he piloted for his black ops team, the Ocean Wolves, there were more than enough women in his life.

His phone beeped in his pocket. What now? I’m on leave. He fished it out. At least it was something else to look at other than Nik and Kathrine still smooching. He thumbed the device awake.

Io Underwater Research Habitat, Dragon’s Breath Cave, Namibia.

Habitat dark forty-eight hours.

Efforts to establish contact or gain access have failed.

Ocean Wolves activation immediate.

He tugged his hand through his hair, checked over his shoulder at the happy couple. Nik sensed his scrutiny and lifted his head. Finn raised his phone and a shadow darkened Nik’s features even though the winter sun shone brightly. Nik spoke against Kathrine’s ear, pressed a kiss to her forehead. She clung to him, holding him to her for a few precious seconds longer.

Finn retrieved his backpack from the 2-32. He glanced back at Nik and Kathrine—her hand still lingering on Nik’s arm, the way she looked at him like he was her whole damn world.

Love wasn’t for him. Some men protected, some men loved. He’d made his choice a long time ago .

Nik finally broke away from Kathrine and crossed the tarmac toward him. Finn averted his eyes, a foreign thought invading his mind. What would it feel like to have a woman cling to him like that?

“Perfect timing, as always.” The easygoing expression was gone from Nik’s face, as the special forces operative that ran deep in his blood came to the fore.

“Isn’t that the truth?” Finn stroked the curve of the cockpit after re-latching it. Next time, baby.

He rolled his shoulders, locking everything down.

Nik punched him playfully between the shoulder blades, glancing at his own phone. “Time to get to work. You got sunscreen in that backpack?”