“With respect, Caleb,” Mara says, not sounding particularly respectful, “I’m making it my call.” She shifts again, and a flicker of pain crosses her face before she can hide it. There’s a dark stain on her left side, spreading slowly across her shirt.
Elena pushes forward, pulling away from Caleb with uncharacteristic roughness. Her eyes are red-rimmed, her voice thick with emotion.
“Mara, you can’t just— We’ve been mourning you! I’ve been—” She cuts herself off, swallowing hard. “I’ve been planning a memorial for you, dammit!”
“Seriously?” Mara’s face brightens. “Will you save me a seat? I’m guessing I’d be guest of honor.”
“This isn’t funny,” Elena chokes. “People have been mourning you.”
Mara’s expression softens again. “I know, babe. And I’m sorry.” The tenderness in her voice is reserved only for Elena. Her hand reaches out, as if to touch the screen separating them. “But trust me… what I’m doing matters.”
“Whatareyou doing?” Luke asks, finally speaking up. His grip on my hand tightens, our bond humming with tension. He’s as shocked as I am. I can feel the last traces of guilt rising within him.
The grin returns to Mara’s face, though it doesn’t erase the exhaustion evident in the dark circles under her eyes.
“Lukester! I missed you, you boring bastard. Can’t say yet. OpSec and all that.”
The room dissolves into argument, voices demanding, pleading, questioning all at once. Caleb paces, three sharp steps and then a turn, over and over. Elena sinks into a chair, her face in her hands. Juno hovers beside her, uncertainty in every line of her body.
Through it all, Mara holds firm, watching with a mixture of affection and frustration. She coughs again, harder this time, doubling over briefly before straightening with visible effort.
“I’m alive. I’m safe enough. And I’ll check in when I can.” She wipes a smear of blood from her lips, trying to hide it from the camera.
“We have a strike team deploying to the Carpathians,” Viktor says, leaning forward, his massive hands splayed on the desk. “They can retrieve you—” A strand of silver hair falls over his forehead. I’ve never seen him this frazzled.
“I’m not in the mountains anymore,” Mara cuts in, her voice sharp. A distant sound—like metal scraping against stone—makes her glance over her shoulder. Her body tenses, ready for action.
“Then where?” My mother’s voice slices through the noise, typically calm in the face of chaos.
“Somewhere I need to be,” Mara replies, unintimidated. Her eyes meet my mother’s pale ones without flinching. “That’s all you’re getting.”
Her tone shifts then, becoming genuine, almost gentle. The harsh lines of her face soften.
“Look, I know this is hard. But I’m asking you to trust me.” Her eyes find mine again, holding my gaze across whatever distance separates us. The intensity in them makes me shiver. “You trusted your instincts in those mountains. Trust mine now.”
“Mara—” I begin, torn between relief at seeing her alive and hurt that she won’t come back to us. Luke’s presence at my side anchors me as emotions threaten to overwhelm me.
“I’m okay, Ember. Promise.” Her voice is soft. “And I’ll see you again.” She pauses. “When this is done.”
“Done?” Caleb demands. “What do you mean by ‘done’? Mara, as your employer, I’m ordering you—”
Mara doesn’t respond to him. Instead, her eyes sweep across all of us one last time, lingering on Elena, whose shoulders shake with silent sobs. For a moment, Mara’s mask slips, revealing a bone-deep weariness.
“Take care of each other. Don’t wait up.” She tries for another grin, but it’s strained, the corner of her mouth twitching with effort.
“Mara, at least give us—” Viktor starts.
The screen goes black.
Silence crashes through the office, heavy and absolute. The only sounds are Elena’s muffled crying and Juno’s murmurs comforting her.
Reactions ripple through the room—disbelief, relief, confusion, anger—all colliding in a storm of emotion. Caleb curses and kicks a wastepaper basket across the floor. Dorian runs both hands through his hair, leaving it standing on end.
Viktor snaps into action first, his voice cutting through the stunned silence. “Trace that signal. I want to know where it originated.”
Nadia is already working on her tablet, fingers flying over the screen.
“On it. But the encryption is sophisticated. This’ll take time.” Her brow furrows in concentration, the blue light from the screen casting her features in an otherworldly glow.
