LOGINCharlieLeaving the medical wing feels like peeling my own skin off.Orion is asleep in Kaleb’s arms when I step into the corridor. Small, warm and perfect. Kaleb doesn’t look up as he speaks, voice kept low for the guards and the walls.“Tell me the plan again.”“Valerius keeps the wing sealed,” I tell him. “No staff changes without his eyes on them. Aris stays with Ezra. You don’t leave this floor unless Orion is in your arms or the building is on fire.”Kaleb’s jaw flexes. Then he nods. Support, not permission.I lean in and breathe in my son once, just once, because my body needs proof he’s fine. Then I turn away before I start bargaining with myself.Valerius waits at the service exit with an unmarked vehicle and two warriors I trust. Soren and Mila are already geared, faces grim, voices quiet.“No one knows you’re leaving,” Valerius says. “The interviews have started and all keys are being audited as we speak.”“Good,” I answer. “If the traitor knows, the cabin becomes a trap be
KalebCharlie is still on the table when the aftershocks shudder through her, thighs trembling, breath ragged, nails dug into my shoulders.My hands are locked around her hips to hold her steady. Her eyes are glossy. Furious. Alive.I press my forehead to hers and breathe her in like oxygen.This is the part of me that could become a monster if I let it.The part that wants to go back to that corridor and tear the intruder apart with my teeth for daring to look at my son. The part that wants to put Charlie behind three locked doors and stand guard until my bones turn to dust.She would kill me for that.She would be right.Her fingers slide into my hair and yank just enough to bring my mouth to hers. Not for a kiss, for a bite of intention.So I give her one back.I drag my teeth along her lower lip, catch it, hold it. Her breath hitches. Her pupils blow wide. That defiant heat spikes, yes, like that, and it threads straight through me.“Again,” she breathes, voice raw, and it isn’t a
CharlieKaleb stays behind when the others file out.He doesn’t try to stop me. He doesn’t try to steer me. He just watches me with that brutal stillness that always means he’s choosing control instead of letting instinct take over.His gaze drops to my bruised hands and I see the moment the anger hits him. It’s a flicker, contained so tightly it’s almost invisible.His fingers curl once, like he wants to break something.I meet his eyes and give him nothing soft. Nothing that asks to be protected.My need for him is suddenly deep and undeniable.I lay Orion down in the warded cot with hands that are steadier than they have any right to be. I smooth my thumb over his cheek once, and the tenderness wants to crack me open.“Don’t let anyone near him,” I tell Ezra.“I won’t,” Ezra promises and I turn away before I can linger.Who knows when Kaleb and I will have this opportunity again?I don’t speak. I just walk out the door and he falls into step with me.Not in front. Not behind like a
EzraThe syringe sits in a glass tray like a polite little lie.Clear barrel. Fine needle. If you looked at it with normal eyes, it was exactly what it pretended to be. Something medical. Something mundane.If you looked at it with mine, it was a weapon built by someone who understands rules.I work in the small sterile room Aris pretends is just for prep. It’s really for containment.There’s a thin silver line set into the tiles around the drain, a circle-within-a-circle that keeps anything clever from slipping into the plumbing and becoming a future problem.I put on gloves anyway. Ritual is ninety percent intention and ten percent hygiene, and I refuse to give the universe easy openings.The syringe is cold in the way certain wards feel, like they’re made of absence.I lift it, turn it slowly, and let my senses slide over it.Ostensibly it’s just a prop. A syringe without any fluid in it. An empty vessel. But when I open all my senses, I can feel it.A thin, stubborn void running a
CharlieThey keep the intruder alive, because I said so.Valerius has him bound in silver chain in the corridor outside the medical wing, a leather gag cutting off anything he might try to spit into the air.Orion sleeps against my collarbone, warm and heavy, like he belongs there and nowhere else. I don’t hand him over. Not now. Not after the way that man’s gaze snapped to my baby like a magnet finding iron.Kaleb walks with me into the old strategy room and shuts the door. Two warriors take position outside.Ezra and Valerius are already inside, and Aris follows a moment later, his medical bag thumping onto the table like a warning.Valerius doesn’t waste time. “He didn’t come through the front. No badge. No key. Someone opened a staff door for him.”The words settle into my bones. Someone from Bloodmoon let him in.Ezra’s eyes are sharp and focused. “The blankness around him is a veil. A suppression ward. Whoever sent him didn’t want us tracking his scent back to their lair.”Aris’
CharlieThe medical wing is quiet, but it’s not peaceful.Outside the door, boots shift now and then. The guard rotation I ordered is holding. Two hours, no gaps, a runner stationed close enough to sprint.A knock lands on the door. One knock. Polite and quiet.Ezra’s head snaps up. My body goes still around my son.Another knock follows, firmer this time.“Medical supply run,” a man calls through the door. “Aris urgently requested fresh blood packs and sterile tubing.”Bullshit. Aris would never send supplies to this door without telling me first. He knows this wing is sealed.I keep Orion tucked against my chest and move closer to the door, careful not to wake him.“What’s your name?”There’s a pause that lasts half a breath too long.“Tomas,” the voice replies. “Medical orderly.”There is a Tomas on staff. Quiet, thin, always seems a bit nervous. This voice does not match the memory in my head.Even worse, I can’t smell the person on the other side of the door. It feels like talkin







