The sight hit me low and hot.
Ember cleared her throat. “Ready?” she asked gently.
Kellan turned to follow, but halfway to the door, he paused. Looked back at me.
Just a second.
A second that landed too damn deep.
When they stepped out, Wraith closed the door behind them.
Silence.
Then Wraith blew out a slow breath. “You’re in it, brother.”
“In what?” I growled.
“Trouble.” He dropped into the chair across from me. “And not the kind we can dig you out of.”
I ignored that. “Anything else to report?”
He sobered instantly. “We got movement. Prospect spotted a Blackthorn Reaper bike on 17.”
My jaw locked.
“How close?”
Wraith’s face went serious.
“Close enough he wasn’t out for a casual ride.”
My spine went tight.
A cold, sharp protectiveness slammed into me, it had nothing to do with politics or strategy.
Everything to do with Kellan.
I scrubbed a hand over my jaw. “No one goes near him,” I said quietly.
Wraith studied me. “Order from the President… or from you?”
“Both.”
He held my gaze for a long moment, then nodded once.
“Ember’ll keep him safe.”
He was quiet for a moment, so I looked up, meeting his gaze. “But Lock… don’t pretend this is just leverage anymore.”
My teeth clenched, but I didn’t respond.
Wraith didn’t push. He just nodded and left.
The door clicked shut. And I stayed exactly where I was.
Staring at the space Kellan had just walked through.
Feeling the wrongness of him being anywhere I wasn’t.
