70

Naomi’s Pov;

We were supposed to be invisible.

That was the rule. No noise. No mistakes. No emotions.

Cassian repeated those words before we left the compound, his tone flat and professional. But the way he looked at me when he said them steady, searching told me he was really reminding himself.

The job was simple: a recon drop.

Find the contact, trade information, leave unseen.

It should’ve been simple.

But nothing ever stayed that way with us.

The warehouse sat at the edge of the docks, a stretch of rusted metal and salt air. The night was thick with fog, waves slapping against the concrete. Somewhere far off, a ship horn sounded, a long, lonely cry.

We moved together, silent, side by side. Cassian was all focus, scanning corners, eyes sharp. I stayed behind him, covering angles just like he’d taught me.

When he stopped suddenly, I froze too.

“Movement,”

he whispered.

I saw it then, a shadow slipping through the crates.

Cassian’s hand came up, fingers brushing my arm