If you don't, the Pacific Rim fractures! I shoot back, the terror bleeding through the bond. Kade, you have to!
Before Kade can answer, a small hand slips into mine.
I look down. Asher is standing beside me. He isn't looking at the datapad. He is looking at me, his mismatched eyes wide, the silver in his left eye glowing fiercely. He can feel it. He can feel the pack’s terror, the fraying tether, the crushing weight of the ocean.
“Mama,” Asher whispers, his voice carrying a strange, resonant clarity. “The mortar is cracking.”
“Asher, go back to the pups,” I say, my voice trembling. “It’s not safe.”
“No,” Asher says firmly. He steps in front of me, placing his small hands on my knees. “You’re the Anchor. Papa is the Shield. But the tether is the mortar. And the mortar is breaking. Let
