He thought of that moment again, of Shadera standing between him and Greyson, her green eyes haunted as she made her choice. Her choice to sacrifice her freedom for the Boundary. For him.
“She’s not in love with him,” Jameson said, the words coming out before he could stop them. The fear that had been gnawing at his heart since he’d seen them together demanded voice. “If that’s what you’re thinking.”
Jaeger raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t.”
“She doesn’t even like him,” Jameson pushed on. “She’s doing this to protect us. To protect the rings.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Jaeger asked, his voice cutting through Jameson’s defense.
The question sliced into Jameson like a blade between ribs. Because the truth was, he had seen something in that room—something in the way Shadera spoke to Greyson, the way she’d refused Jameson’s kiss—that suggested a complication he wasn’t ready to face.
Jameson deflected. “The only thing that matters is that we’re fucked. All of us. The rebellion, the Boundary, every plan we’ve made—it’s all compromised if Maximus knows where we are, what we’re doing.”
As they entered the deeper sections of Cardinal, away from Heart surveillance, Jameson’s thoughts shifted into something harder. Shadera was trapped, yes. But she’d given him information he could use. She was still fighting, in her way. Still part of the resistance.
And she wasn’t alone anymore. She had him. Had them. Even from inside the Heart.
“This ends now,” Jameson said as they approached the Boundary. His voice carried new resolve, steel beneath the exhaustion. “No more secrets between us. No more compartmentalized intelligence. No more separate agendas.”
Jaeger’s gaze turned toward him. “Careful, Ghost. You’re sounding dangerously close to giving me orders.”
“Not orders.” Jameson met his gaze. “An ultimatum. The Daggermouths and the rebels work together from now on. Completetransparency. Combined resources, combined intelligence, combined planning.”
“Or what?” Jaeger’s voice held no fear, only curiosity.
“Or we lose everything.” Jameson’s answer was simple. “If Maximus knows as much as he claims, if he’s really prepared to bomb the Boundary, we’re already at war. And I refuse to lose the woman I love and this fight in the same week.”
The vehicle came to a stop at the final barrier between Cardinal and the Boundary. The team shifted, preparing to disembark, to disappear back into the shadows of their respective territories. But Jameson’s eyes remained fixed on Jaeger, waiting.
Finally Jaeger nodded, a single sharp movement. “Tomorrow,” he agreed. “Bring Farrow to Wolf’s Head and we will meet.”
It wasn’t a full capitulation, but it was enough for now. Jameson would take it—take any victory, no matter how small, in a day defined by loss. Jaeger’s hand landed on his shoulder, giving him a small squeeze as he exited the vehicle and disappeared into the night with his unit.
Jameson took one last deep breath before he stepped out of the vehicle into the familiar grime of the Boundary, already planning his next move. Shadera might be lost to him for now, trapped in that tower with the Executioner. But the war for New Found Haven—for freedom, for the future—was just beginning.
And he would make sure she had a home to return to when it was over.
Chapter twenty-six
Eleven
Consciousnessarrivedlikeanunwelcome guest, hammering at Shadera’s temples and setting fire to her throat. She groaned, pressing her face deeper into the pillow as memories from the night before flooded back in jagged, whiskey soaked fragments. The club, Jameson in Veyra uniform coming to free her. Blood. Broken glass. Bodies. Greyson’s mouth on hers, his hands in her hair, on her throat,between her legs, the weight of him against her body on the kitchen counter. Her fingers unconsciously rose to her lips, finding them tender and swollen.
“Fuck,” she whispered, the word scraping against her dry throat.
She forced herself to sit up, ignoring the protest from every muscle in her body. The room spun briefly before settling into focus. Morning light sliced through the gaps in the curtains, cutting across the bed in harsh lines and making the pounding between her ears pulse harder.
She dragged herself from bed, noting the bandage she’d wrapped around her thigh drunk and angry in the middle of the night. The wound wasn’t deep, just a graze. It had stopped bleeding now, but the area around it was bruised and tender. Another scar to add to her collection. Another mark left on her body by Greyson Serel. It stung with every step she took as his T-shirt brushed the edges of it.
She really needed to get her own fucking clothes.
Greyson’s voice filtered down the hallway as she opened the door and she hesitated for one moment, taking a step back into the room. She didn’t want to face him. Not after—
No. She shook her head.
She needed coffee and would not let him take that away from her too.
Let him see her like this—bloodied, disheveled, unmasked in every sense. Let him see what they’d done to each other.
