“And now,” Slate went on, “it looks like something else.”
That finally made me look up.
“Say it.”
Slate met my eyes. No challenge there. Just honesty. “It looks like you’re treating him like he’s staying.”
Silence followed.
Not heavy.
Not hostile.
Just… querying.
Wraith shifted near the window. “No one’s saying you’re wrong. We just need to know what the plan is.”
“This compound is secure,” Grim said. “Patrols are doubled. Escorts are in place. No one goes out alone.”
“Security isn’t the issue,” Fuse added. “Direction is.”
I exhaled slowly through my nose.
Saint was the reason. Always had been. That didn’t change just because things got complicated.
But Kellan had complicated it.
Not by doing anything wrong.
By existing under my roof and being nothing like what I expected.
“This is still about Saint,” I said finally.
Every head tilted just slightly. Listening.
“Rowan made a deal,” I continued. “He delivers the man who hurt Saint. Clean. Alive. Or?—”
“And Kellan?” Grim asked.
I drew in a deep breath.
“Kellan stays where I can see him,” I said. “Where he’s protected.”
Slate frowned slightly. “That’s not leverage.”
“No,” I agreed.
Fuse swore under his breath. Not angry. Realizing.
Wraith watched me carefully. “If Rowan doesn’t deliver.”
I held his gaze. “Then this turns into blood.”
No one flinched.
Saint wasn’t forgotten. Not by any of us. But this wasn’t just a retrieval anymore.
It was a line being drawn.
