John ignored the first knock on his hotel room door, and the second. He could not, however, ignore the third.

It wasn’t exactly a knock. More a kick. The door slammed back against the wall with a crunch of splintering wood.

“Right,” Griff said, lowering his booted foot. Chase and Hugh flanked him, their expressions as grimly determined as if they were about to charge into an inferno. “What’s wrong, John?”

John didn’t pause in his packing. “Nothing, oath-brother. All is well.”

Griff’s golden eyes narrowed. “John, it’s the middle of the night, you’re dripping wet and practically naked, and you’re flinging your hoard into your backpack as though the room is on fire. All is very definitely not well.”

John gripped his favorite golden chain, the worked links digging into his palms. He forced himself to meet his oath-brother’s eyes. He knew it was futile to try to dissemble—the griffin shifter’s piercing gaze could see through any lie.

“On my honor, I swear to you that it is not a matter with which you can help.” He made himself speak levelly, forcing back the melody of grief that wanted to weave around the human words. “But I must go.”

“What, right now?” Chase said. “Where?”

“Home,” John said simply.

They stared at him.

“Well,” Hugh said, after a moment. “I for one am not going to volunteer to drive you to the damn seaside at one o’clock in the bloody morning.”

“I shall swim.” He could tell the lake joined up with the ocean eventually, though the distant song of the salt water was whisper-faint.

“Through a canal?” Hugh countered. “Through the middle of Inverness? It’s a city, John. Even invisible, you’ll be like a whale trying to squeeze down a drainpipe.”

“Then I shall walk!” His roar rocked all three of them back on their heels. John took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. “I must go. I must go now!”

Chase’s jaw dropped. “My God. You actually found some trace of your missing Emperor, didn’t you? In Loch Ness?”

“No—it is not that.” John shook his head in quick denial. “I found something else. Something much worse.”

Griff’s brow furrowed. “Is there some sort of danger here?”

“No! I assure you, it is nothing of that nature. You need not fear for your mate’s safety, nor that of any dry-lander. But I must report at once to the Knight-Commander of my Order. Please. Let me go.”

The three other shifters exchanged baffled glances. He could sense the silent flicker of telepathic communication as they conferred with each other.

All mystical shifters could commune psychically with each other, but he kept his own mind closed, his mental walls thick and high. If his comrades sensed his inner turmoil, they would never let him go until they knew what had caused it.

“John,” Chase said. John had rarely heard the mercurial pegasus shifter speak so seriously. “If you must go, then of course we’ll help you any way we can. But we’re your friends, and we’re worried about you. Please, just tell us what’s going on.”

He wound the thick chain around his hand, trying to draw comfort from the reassuring richness of gold against his skin. “I…I…”

They said nothing, giving him space to speak if he chose. The warmth of their silent concern and friendship encircled him like a tropical lagoon.

Giving up, he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. “I met my mate.”

All three of them gaped at him.

“You what?” Griff said.

“Congratulations!” yelled Chase.

“Oh no.” Hugh jabbed an accusing finger at John, looking as though he was personally offended by this revelation. “I distinctly recall you saying you didn’t have a mate. You promised you didn’t have a mate.”

“I shouldn’t have a mate.” John fisted his hands, the golden chain cutting into his knuckles. “This should be impossible!”

“She’s human, isn’t she?” Chase turned to Griff, a wide grin spreading across his face. “You owe me a beer.”

“And I thought I’d be pleased to lose that bet.” Griff’s forehead was still lined with concern. “But now I’m not so sure. John, why isn’t this a good thing?”

“Because she is human,” John said wretchedly. He dropped his head into his hands, running his fingers through his braided hair. “And even more than that, I am a Knight-Poet of the First Water. My oaths still apply. I cannot serve the Pearl Throne and also serve my mate.”

“Oh. I see.” Griff sat down on the bed next to him, the light touch of his shoulder against John’s a silent reassurance that the griffin shifter had his back, no matter what. “So that’s why you need to talk to your Knight-Commander. To resign.”

“Yes.” John was grateful that his oath-brother was taking the news so stoically. “I can no longer serve in my current role. I must beg the head of my Order to release me from my duty.”

Griff let out a long sigh. “I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you. I’m so sorry. When will you be back?”

John raised his head to stare at Griff. “Back?”

“What, you thought we’d kick you off the team?” Chase said. “Of course you can come back. Fire Commander Ash hardly cares whether you’re a knight or not, after all.”

“Is the problem that you think your mate will want to stay here in Scotland?” Hugh said, sounding rather hopeful. “If you’ve both got careers at opposite ends of Britain, perhaps you could consider a long distance relationship? Physical contact is greatly overrated in my opinion.”

John had the sinking feeling that, not for the first time, his comrades had utterly misunderstood him. “No. When I said that I could no longer serve, I meant as Walker-Above-Wave. I can no longer be the Emissary to the Land. I will not be coming back.”

Silence spread out from his words. He could not bear to meet his friends’ shocked eyes.

He looked down at his gold-wrapped hand again. “I will miss you,” he said quietly. “I will miss you all. Please convey my regrets to Fire Commander Ash.”

“No.” Griff stood abruptly, turning so that they were eye-to-eye. He folded his thick arms across his broad chest. “You can tell him yourself, when he gets here for the wedding. He is your acting commander and you owe him the courtesy of at least handing in your resignation in person.”

Much as John did not want to admit it, his oath-brother was right. Fire Commander Ash was an honorable man, and a good leader. When John had been new onto land, the Phoenix had taken him under his wing, saying only that he too knew what it was like to be a stranger in a strange place. Though the reserved Fire Commander would never be a friend in the same way as the other members of Alpha Team, John owed him a debt of gratitude. He could not simply vanish without thanking the Phoenix for the honor of serving under him.

Slowly, he nodded. “You are right, oath-brother. I can delay my departure a few hours.”

“You’ll delay your departure longer than that.” There was an edge of anger in Griff’s usually calm, amiable voice. He glared across at John like a weapons-master about to discipline a particularly disappointing new novice. “Or have you forgotten that you have duties to me as well?”

Guilt stabbed him like a sword. In his selfish anguish, he had forgotten. He was supposed to be serving as Griff’s second at his mating ceremony. John was still somewhat unclear as to why a mating ceremony needed a second—or "best man" to use the human term—given that it seemed highly unlikely that any duels would be occurring, but it was still a position of great honor and responsibility.

“I did not think,” he admitted, ashamed of himself. “I beg your forgiveness. I will stay until after your mating ceremony, of course. But I cannot linger longer.”

“Why not?” Chase asked. “Why can’t you slow down, take some time to think this over before you go diving into the depths of the sea?”

Hugh raised an eyebrow at Chase. “Did you just actually tell someone to slow down? You?”

“I know, it’s a historic occasion. Seriously, John. Neither your Knight-Commander nor your mate are going anywhere.” Chase paused, a brief look of concern flickering over his expressive features. “Ah, she isn’t going anywhere, is she?”

A hollow laugh forced its way out of his chest. “The last time I saw her, sword-brother, she was fleeing from me in mortal terror.”

Chase brightened. “Finally. Someone managed to make an even worse first impression on his mate than I did!”

“No, your mate only fled from you after she got to know you,” Hugh said. “As an impartial judge, I’m awarding John the victory here.”

Strangely, his comrades’ refusal to treat the matter with the gravity it deserved helped to ease some of his anguish. John’s taut shoulders eased down a little.

“That’s better,” Griff said, his eagle eyes clearly picking up his body language. He reached out to grip John’s arm for a moment, his fierce expression softening. “See, we can help you, John. If you’ll let us.”

He let out his breath in a long sigh, finally unwinding the golden chain from around his hand. “Actually, there is a matter with which I would be most grateful for assistance. Yours in particular, sword-brother Chase.”

Rising, he picked up his mate’s lost pendant from where he’d carefully placed it on his pillow. Closing his fingers over the shimmering pearl, he hesitated. It felt so good in his hand, as smooth and precious as her cheek would have felt against his palm. Its perfect roundness reminded him of the wondrous curves of her body.

It was a tiny piece of her. He wanted to keep it. To treasure it, always, as he could not treasure her…

It is not ours, his inner human said stubbornly. We must give it back.

With a sigh, he allowed his inner human’s strange sense of "fairness" to push aside his more natural desire to add to his hoard.

“Here.” He handed the pearl to Chase. “Could you see that this is returned to its rightful owner?”

The pegasus shifter had a talent for finding people. John had seen him put it to good use in many a rescue situation, unerringly guiding the fire crew to trapped victims. He could locate anyone within about a five mile radius, as long as he had a clear mental picture—from either his own memory or someone else’s—to use as a focus.

Chase let out a low, impressed whistle, holding up the pendant by the broken chain so that the pearl caught the light. “Pretty. So’s the woman you’re thinking of. Is that her? Your mate?”

“Yes.” John had lowered his mental shields to allow the pegasus shifter to pick his mate’s image from his mind. “Last I saw, she was on the far side of the loch. Can you locate her, and return this lost treasure to her?”

“She’s not in my range at the moment, but I’ll track her down for you.” Chase tucked the pearl away in his pocket. “What do you want me to tell her?”

“Nothing,” John said, allowing a touch of steel to enter his voice. “Just return it to her. Do not speak to her. On your honor, swear that you will not.”

“But-“ Chase began.

“Promise me.”

Chase’s mouth snapped shut with a click. “I promise,” he said after a second, sounding subdued. “But I think you’re making a mistake. You don’t truly understand how hard it is to live without your mate.”

“Like living without air.” John met his eyes levelly. “In the crushing depths, where the weight of water cracks your bones and your very heart struggles to beat. I understand very well, sword-brother.”

“No, you don’t.” Chase shook his head. “It doesn’t get better. It will feel like that, every second of every day. Always. Until you’re together again.”

“A wise man once told me,” Griff said softly, “that I would rip my soul into pieces if I tried to deny my mate.”

He’d been the one who’d said that to Griff. At the time, he’d wholeheartedly believed in the advice. Now, he could only marvel that Griff hadn’t punched him in the face.

“I appreciate your concern. Truly. But the matter is settled. I will stay for the mating ceremony. Afterwards, our ways must part.” He drew himself up to his full height, the top of his head brushing the ceiling. “I am a sea dragon. I can live without air.”