And that meant I had to be twice as fast, twice as sharp. Because if Hydra so much as laid a finger on her, it wouldn’t matter whether I trusted her or not.
They’d find out what it meant to go through me.
16
Elara
The hum of the transport was a steady vibration under my boots, the kind of sound that usually calmed me. Not this time. This time, it pressed against my chest like a warning drum.
The team sat in their usual formation—Oliver by the rear hatch, Gage scanning maps across his knee, Cyclone muttering into his headset about chatter from Hydra channels. His gun across his lap. And Beckett, across from me, posture rigid, rifle balanced on his knees like an extension of his body. His eyes never stopped moving. Every few seconds, they landed on me, sharp as a scalpel.
I laced my fingers together, forcing them to stay still. If he saw the tremor, he’d think it was fear. And maybe it was. Not of Hydra—they were monsters, but monsters I knew. No, the fear was him. The way his protectiveness pressed in, suffocating and steady, like he’d already claimed responsibility for every breath I took.
“You okay?” Cyclone asked, almost absently, like it was just another line of data he needed to confirm.
“I’m fine,” I said, the two words clipped, rehearsed.
But Beckett’s gaze caught mine at that moment, and I knew he didn’t buy it. He never did.
I tilted my chin, meeting his stare head-on. “Don’t look at me like I’m going to break, Cole.”
His mouth tightened. “Not going to. Already said it—everybody does. Question’s when.”
Heat flared in my chest, anger and something else tangled tight. “Maybe you’re watching the wrong person. Hydra doesn’t scare me. I just want Hydra destroyed.”
His jaw worked, muscle ticking. “Then you’re either braver than the rest of us, or too damn reckless.”
I should’ve looked away. Instead I leaned forward, closing the small gap of air between us, my voice low so only he could hear. “Maybe I’m just done letting men decide what I am.”
For a heartbeat, the transport was too quiet. His eyes locked on mine, hard and unyielding, but beneath it I saw something I wasn’t supposed to: respect. And that scared me more than his distrust ever had.
River spoke up. “Five minutes, guys, get your gear ready.”
Everyone shifted, checked their weapons, and fell into the ritual. My heartbeat steadied, my mask snapped back into place.
Beckett leaned in just enough that his shoulder brushed mine, the contact brief but grounding. His voice was low, rough. “Stay close to me, Voss.”
It wasn’t a request. It was a promise.
And for the first time since Hydra, I wasn’t sure if I hated being protected—or if I craved it.
17
Elara
The hum of the vehicle faded as River drove, and for a moment, I let my eyes close. Not to rest—rest was a luxury I hadn’t trusted in years—but because sometimes the darkness made it easier to remember.
Hydra hadn’t found me in an alley with a gun to my head. That would’ve been too honest.
No, they came dressed in silk and smiles.
I’d been eighteen, too smart for my own good, too desperate to prove I could survive on my own. My father had left me alone a year earlier; my mother had gone before that. I was tired of scraping by on part-time jobs, always one bill away from losing everything.
Hydra offered something no one else had: a sense of belonging. What I didn’t know was that it was a trap.
They called it a foundation back then—scholarships, internships, glossy galas in glass towers. They told me I wasspecial. That I had a way of walking into a room and bending it around me. They polished me, dressed me, whispered that I could make a difference if I just played along, and listened to them.
By the time I realized I was being used, I was already too deep. My face on billboards. My smile plastered across campaigns that promised change while Hydra chained girls in basements.
