Before Jasmine, time spent together as a full, four-man unit was rare. Our contact used to be scraps, mainly texting in a group chat, an occasional video call always instigated by Sai—and never accepted by Kane—until Julien enforced Friday meals, and I added Monday meetings.
So tomorrow’s meeting will be a rarity. Four high-ranking officers in one room, perfect for rattling the Leads.
But it won’t just be four, not anymore, it’ll be five. Though I understand my brother’s hesitations for Jasmine being there, we all agreed it was necessary, right.
I’ll lead the meeting, and the others will serve their purposes.
Julien, our lie detector.
Sai, mockery on legs.
Kane, pure intimidation.
And Jasmine: empath, manipulator, our secret weapon. She’ll feel their deception, then choke them with it.
The thrum of excitement spiking our bond as we discussed our roles and tactics, while imagining her there, knowing what she’ll bring to this unit,ourunit, even Kane couldn’t mask it.
I lean back against the wall. I dragged the bed here last night, after we… I drop my tablet on the side table, taking off myglasses to rub my eyes. I’m imagining it too often, too vividly, it’s like I can feel her…
My darkness bristles just before there’s a sound. A pounding. Dull, slow, but heavy.
Insistent.
Coming from… the door? I flit out of bed and reach it in one stride, pulling it open—
And there she is.
A dream.
Jasmine.
Barefoot and… asleep. Wearing my hoodie. The one Kane borrowed and never returned. Now I know why. It drowns her frame, sleeves hanging over her hands, but the hem rides scandalously high on her thighs. One shoulder slips free, revealing smooth, pale skin like sin dipped in moonlight.
My mouth goes dry. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I murmur.
Her eyes flutter but don’t open. She sways, then—
She steps inside.
No hesitation. Just walks straight past me, asleep, like she’s drawn here. To me.
She turns slightly, face soft in sleep, lips parted, hair a wild, halo of crimson. She’s the most dangerous thing I’ve ever seen.
And I’ve faced monsters.
I curse under my breath. “This is cruel,” I mutter hoarsely, casting a glance at the ceiling like the Goddess might be watching.
Ihaveto take her back. That’s the right thing. That’s what a respectable gentleman would do.
I reach out, fingers brushing her arm to guide her—her eyes snap open.
She blinks, disoriented. “Zeek?” she rasps, her hazy gaze flickering around the room like a lost lamb.
Fuck being a gentleman.
“You were sleepwalking.” My voice is soft and low, coaxing. She blinks again, trying to piece it all together. “You were banging on my door.” I step closer. “Demanding to be let in.”
Her lips part as she looks over her shoulder and sees the open door. But not for long. One silver wisp, and it slams shut.
