Free The Valkyrie's Guardian by Moriah Densley Page B

at the news. A dozen waves swallowed the shore and receded. If she could have pummeled Jack, she would have thrashed him, but he still pinned her tightly. You never told me.
    Wasn’t my place to tell.
    Cassie couldn’t speak. She turned her face into his neck and sobbed. She wailed until her lungs couldn’t draw air.
    Shh. Breathe, lass. With me.
    He controlled her breath, synchronized with the pulse of the ocean waves. He held her focus on the sound of their two heartbeats settling into rhythm. There sat Cat next to Jack in the sand, keeping watch. Before Cassie could complain about it being a pest, Jack mentioned,
    Cat fetched us. Did you send her?
    No. Lyssa shooed it out, wouldn’t quit pawing at her belly.
    Cat found Kyros and made some signal. He followed Cat back toward the house then ran for it once he heard Lyssa in pain.
    Cassie paled, realizing Cat had sensed the baby was in danger. Kyros’ weird cat usually served as an extra-sentient detector of sorts, but that would be the last time Cassie ignored the furball when it wanted to play Lassie. Would three-and-a-half minutes’ warning have been enough time to save the baby? Perhaps. Probably.
    Then it really was Cassie’s fault. Despair stabbed at her gut, a deep, sinking pain. She whispered miserably, I failed, Jack.
    No, lass. Nothing you could do. Not even Kyros. She’d never heard his voice in such a gentle tone. It happens, love.
    It shouldn’t!
    I’m sorry.
    Cassie cried until Jack’s shirt was soaked, until her body simply had nothing more to give. The numb exhaustion was a marginal improvement, but she hardly cared. Her eyes blinked, and she saw an unfamiliar stretch of beach. Might as well have been the gates of hell.
    â€œNothing matters.”
    â€œNot true. Cass, much of the despair you felt was Lyssa’s. You were in her head. That’s dangerous. You’re not suicidal — calm down, okay? Let the burden belong to those who own it.”
    Somehow that was a revelation, what she needed to hear. Cassie let her mind wander, anywhere but what had just happened. Jack sat rocking her with his arms banded across her back, the pressure and heat comforting. It could have been minutes or hours while she decided she couldn’t stand living with Kyros and Lyssa another moment. Everything about them — their superpowers, fairytale romance, their tragedies — all more than she could handle.
    â€œJack, just get me out of here.”
    â€œYes, ma’am.”

Chapter 7
    â€œHi, my name is Jack. Now you know what to scream.”
    â€”Jack MacGunn, King of the Bad Pick-Up Line
    â€œHey, Doolittle! Brought your shorty?”
    â€œYo, it’s the Bullfrog! Doolittle, how’s it goin’ — ”
    Jack turned to see the two petty officers go from cool to stupid in two seconds. Usually he despised watching men devour Cassie with their eyes, but this was a matter of vindication. Jack pulled her by the waist against his side and she stiffened. Still miffed about their argument last night before they left Sonoma. Still devastated by Lyssa’s miscarriage too, but she locked that away.
    Either I claim you now, or you spend the next week fending off every officer on base.
    Go to hell, Jack.
    Love back, baby. “Cassie, this is Chief Hanson and my XO — Executive Officer, Papa Smurf.” Jack smiled and took off his sunglasses. “I don’t even know your real name, Pops.” He couldn’t help the pride in his voice, “Chief, Pops — drumroll please — at long last meet Cassiopeia Noyon.”
    â€œHello, gentlemen,” came her dusky 900-number voice in that posh accent. She raised her sunglasses to smile and nod at them, and Jack thought Chief and Pops would drop to their knees. Every inch of her was beautiful, but her bedroom eyes were deadly. Especially when the corners tilted upward as she smiled, the shadow of her lashes making the smoky