Chapter 13: The First Strike

The decision was made at dawn.

We wouldn't wait for The Regent to strike first. Waiting was defensive, and I was done being defensive.

The war room screens glowed with live satellite feeds and financial movement charts, lines of data crawling across displays like digital veins. Lucien stood at the head of the table, sharp and composed, radiating that cold authority he wore like armor.

"We hit three assets simultaneously," he said, pointing to glowing nodes on the map. "Shipping hub, offshore accounts, and the Lagos relay house."

Rowan leaned forward, hands flat on the glass table. "And the Regent?"

Lucien's eyes went cold. "We flush him out."

I stood across from them, dressed in black tactical gear that felt disturbingly natural against my skin. Like I'd been waiting my whole life to put it on.

Elias watched me carefully, his brow furrowed. "You don't have to go."

Lucien didn't interrupt. Rowan didn't even look at me.

I tilted my head, kept my voice steady. "If I stay behind now, what does that say to the Syndicate? What does it say to our own people?"

Elias's jaw tightened. "It says you're still human, Ava."

I gave him a faint, bittersweet smile. "I plan to stay that way. But humans fight for what's theirs."

Rowan finally looked at me.

It was worse than last night. His gaze wasn't protective or commanding, it was assessing. Measuring. Recalculating me as a variable in a very dangerous equation.

Lucien ended the moment with a decisive nod. "She goes."

Elias's gaze snapped to his older brother, but Lucien didn't waver. "She's already visible. Keeping her behind walls now makes her a symbol of our fear. I'd rather have her as a strategist in the field."

My eyes locked onto Lucien's for half a second.

You trust me.

He nodded once. Unspoken pact sealed.

Rowan exhaled slowly, a sound like steam escaping a valve. "Fine."

But it wasn't agreement.

It was surrender.

The Lagos relay house looked abandoned, a crumbling shell of concrete and rusted rebar sagging under its own weight. But inside, it pulsed with encrypted traffic and Syndicate handlers moving like ghosts through the corridors.

I moved with a precision that surprised even me. No recklessness. No emotion. Just focus.

Rowan stayed at my side, a silent, lethal shadow. Our shoulders brushed once as we took positions near the inner corridor. Brief contact. Electric.

He felt it. I felt it. We both ignored it.

"Two guards inside," Rowan murmured near my ear, his voice a low vibration that felt too close, too intimate.

It was the same proximity we'd shared as kids, but now it carried the weight of something entirely different.

I didn't look at him. "I'll take the left."

"I'll cover."

We moved in perfect sync—too perfect for people who hadn't worked together in years. When the first shot fired, it wasn't chaos.

It was execution.

I disarmed the first handler with brutal, quiet efficiency. No flash. No cruelty. Just decisiveness.

Rowan watched me drop the second man with calculated restraint. No rage. Just control.

And something shifted in him again. I could feel it without looking.

I wasn't following his lead anymore. I was matching him. Stride for stride.

We reached the central terminal room together. The Regent wasn't there in the flesh, but his presence filled the space like smoke.

A live feed flickered onto the monitors. A distorted, metallic voice filled the air.

"You've grown bold."

I stepped forward before Rowan could stop me. "You've grown predictable."

The voice chuckled, dry, rasping, wrong. "You always did belong to them, little bird."

A pause. Then, with chilling deliberation:

"But you are not one of them."

The words landed like lead in my stomach.

My pulse stayed steady, but the air went cold. Rowan's jaw clenched so hard I heard his teeth grind.

The voice continued. "You are something... else entirely."

The feed cut to black.

Silence rang in our ears. Rowan grabbed my wrist before I could move—not rough, but absolute.

"What did he mean by that?" he demanded, his eyes searching mine.

"I don't know," I whispered.

But something about the Regent's tone unsettled me. Like he knew something about my origins that even the Kings didn't.

Rowan didn't release me. We were too close, breathing in sync in the small room.

Then the building's alarms shrieked to life.

Lucien's voice crackled through our comms. "Extraction now! They've planted failsafes. The building is rigged."

The floor trembled beneath us.

Rowan didn't hesitate, he pulled me toward the exit, and we ran.

Explosions tore through the rear of the structure, heat licking at our heels. Dust and debris rained down as we burst through the exit. Outside, the air was thick with smoke and ash.

Rowan shoved me against the side of the armored vehicle, using his own body as a shield to protect me from falling stone and shrapnel.

He was braced in front of me. Too close. Too aware.

My hands pressed instinctively against his chest, felt the heavy thud of his heart through the tactical vest. He was solid. Warm. Very much alive.

The world blurred around us for half a second.

He looked down at me, and this time there was no mistaking the look in his eyes.

It wasn't brotherly. It wasn't even protective.

It was hungry.

A deep, soul-level recognition that hit like a punch to the ribs.

The elders had said I wasn't truly their sister, but twenty-one years of habit were stronger than a few words from a council. This felt like crossing a line etched in stone.

"Rowan," I breathed.

It wasn't a warning. Wasn't an invitation. Just his name, an acknowledgment of the fire between us.

He pulled back first. Just an inch. Enough to let the cold air rush back in.

"Get in the vehicle," he said, his voice roughened with tension he couldn't hide.

I didn't argue.

As the convoy pulled away, the relay house burning into a pyre behind us, I looked back once.

The Regent had wanted to destabilize us. He'd succeeded, but not in the way he intended.

Because now, the war was public.

And the tension between me and Rowan had shifted into something undeniable.

Back at the estate, Lucien analyzed the data we'd managed to scrape from the relay house. "He expected us," Lucien said, his face illuminated by the cold blue glow of the screens.

Elias folded his arms. "He baited us."

I stood by the window, the distorted voice still echoing in my head.

You are something else.

Rowan entered the room last. His gaze found me immediately and stayed there.

Lucien noticed. Elias definitely noticed.

Lucien spoke without looking up from his tablet. "The Regent wants you destabilized, Ava. He wants you to doubt your place here."

I turned, lifted my chin. "I'm not."

Lucien's eyes lifted. "No. But he's trying to make you question where you belong. He knows that's your only real weakness."

Elias added quietly, "He benefits if you feel divided from us."

Rowan's voice cut in, low, absolute. "She isn't divided."

Everyone looked at him.

He didn't explain. Didn't soften it. Just stated it as fact.

I held his gaze.

And for the first time, I didn't feel like I was standing between the three men.

I felt like I was standing beside them. Equal.

But something new lived in the air between me and Rowan now. It wasn't accidental. It wasn't imagined.

It was dangerous because it wasn't supposed to exist.

And yet, nothing about it felt wrong.