I stare at my tablet, my cheeks burning.Focused and quiet.Like I’m some overeager rookie who can’t handle basic instructions. Which, okay, maybe Iama rookie, but I’m not an idiot. I’ve earned this assignment.
“Don’t take it personally,” Mara whispers from across the aisle. “He’s like that with everyone.”
“Does he ever say anything that isn’t an order or a criticism?”
“Not in my experience. But hey, at least he’s consistent.” She pauses, studying me with those sharp eyes. “Though for what it’s worth, that’s the longest I’ve ever seen him stand next to someone without looking like he wants to be literally anywhere else.”
“He looked like he wanted to throw me out a window.”
“Nah. Trust me, I know his ‘throw you out a window’ face. That was something else.” Her grin turns knowing. “Interesting.”
I don’t ask what she means. I don’t want to know.
I force myself back to the files, determined to prove I belong here.
Hours later, the plane begins its descent. I press my face to the window again as the first light of dawn breaks over the horizon. Below, the landscape shifts; rolling hills, dense forests, andthen, rising in the distance like ancient sentinels, the Carpathian Mountains.
My breath catches. I’ve seen pictures, but they don’t do justice to the raw, jagged beauty of those peaks. Snow clings to the highest ridges, and the valleys are swallowed in mist.
This is where dragons fought. Where fire scorched the earth and magic bled into the soil.
A thrill runs through me, sharp and electric. Recognition without memory.
“Your mother said this was your first time abroad?”
I jump, twisting in my seat. Luke stands in the aisle again, his duffel slung over one shoulder, his expression unreadable. But his eyes… his eyes are on the mountains beyond the window, and something in them shifts. Softens, just for a heartbeat, before that professional mask slides back into place.
“Yes,” I admit.
He’s quiet for a moment, still watching the peaks. When he speaks again, his voice is lower. Rougher.
“The mountains are older than any of us. They’ve seen more fire and blood than you can imagine.” His gaze flicks to me, holding for a beat too long. “Don’t romanticize them.”
Then he moves past me toward the cockpit, his arm brushing my shoulder as he walks by. The contact is brief, accidental, but it sends heat racing through me that has nothing to do with the rising sun outside.
I sit frozen, my pulse pounding, as the plane touches down on the tarmac in Bucharest. The engines whine as we taxi toward a private hangar, and I gather my gear with shaking hands.
This is it. My first real mission.
I glance toward the cockpit where Luke is speaking quietly with the pilot, his posture rigid, his attention absolute. Then his eyes cut to me—just for a second—before he turns away.
My stomach flips.
Why? Why does he have that effect on me?
I sling my pack over my shoulder, ignoring the way my skin still feels warm where he brushed against me.
Fine. I’ll show him exactly how focused I can be.
Even if I can’t quite stop wondering why his eyes lingered on mine, or what that flicker of something meant before he locked it away.
The cargo door opens, and cold mountain air rushes in, stealing my breath.
Luke descends first, moving with that controlled grace that shouldn’t be as compelling as it is. He doesn’t look back.
But I feel his awareness like a physical touch, and I’m starting to suspect the ice isn’t the problem.
It’s the fire underneath.
