I’m the girl with the bat.
And I don’t lose what’s mine.
EPILOGUE — A NEW HUNT
LARK
The first thing I learn about working for Maddox Security (because yes, they recruited us) is this:
They don’t half-commit.
They don’t half-protect.
They don’t half-hunt.
And after everything Knight and I survived, I’m not sure either of us could live halfway again even if we tried.
We’re in the Aquarium—because of course Dean Maddox has to name his glass conference room like it’s a warning and a flex—sitting around a long table that smells like coffee, gun oil, and the kind of seriousness that makes me sit up straighter even when I’m determined to be a problem.
Knight is at my side.
Not hovering.
Not controlling.
Justthere.
Like he finally learned the difference between protecting me and loving me.
His hand rests on my knee under the table—steady, warm, familiar—like a quiet anchor while Rae’s voice floats through the comms display at the front.
“We confirmed Serafina’s footprint in Halo City again,” Rae says. “Same network nodes. Same shell routes. Different faces.”
Arrow leans back in his chair, jaw locked. He looks like a guy who keeps his rage in a safe with two locks and a prayer. Juno sits beside him, fingers laced with his under the table in a way that screamstouch him and die.
Across from me, River’s posture is calm but her eyes are sharp. This version of River—the one who survived Cathedral and turned her fear into teeth—is one of my favorite things in the world. Gage is next to her, looking like he’s trying to be professional and also trying not to combust into violence if anyone breathes wrong around his people.
Which includes me.
Unfortunately for him.
Ozzy is sprawled in his chair like the meeting is optional, but his gaze is focused in that unsettling way that tells me he’s cataloging every detail, every risk, every potential objective path.
Render has a tablet open, already pulling satellite overlays.
Poe is quiet near the corner, the kind of quiet that makes the room feel more secure just because he’s in it.
Sawyer and Riggs stand like they were born in command lighting.
Dean sits at the head of the table, calm in the way that makes you remember calm can be lethal. This is not a ragtag vigilante crew anymore. This is a machine. A good one.
Rae changes the display.
A photo appears.
A girl.
Maybe mid-twenties.
