Lark turned her head. “This might be the only way.”
“It’s too risky.” Kawan shook his head.
“It always is,” she replied. “But Dustin’s right. This is the crack we’ve been waiting for.”
Dustin nodded slowly. “This doesn’t work unless Lorre believes you’re alone. And it only works if we can flip the rest of the op before he realizes we’re onto him.”
Specs looked at Kawan. “We can set a trap. Build in failsafes.”
“And if he’s wired into half of Liberty?” Kawan asked. “Then what?”
“Then we blow the doors off,” Lark said. “Take the evidence public. We use every ally we’ve got. We bring Bradford and Alverez home.” She looked up at him. “And we end this.”
Kawan closed his eyes for one beat. “You go in, I go too. I don’t care what the plan is. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
Lark didn’t argue.
Neither did Dustin.
Because everyone in that room knew—this was the beginning of the end.
14
THE REFUGE—NEW MEXICO
The first light of dawn crept through the cabin window like a whisper, painting everything in shades of amber and hope. Lark lay still, studying the restful quiet of Kawan’s face, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. His arm draped over her waist, fingers splayed across her back, holding her close even in sleep.
She should be sleeping, too. Should be taking advantage of what might be their last peaceful morning for a long time. But her mind wouldn't quiet. Instead, she found herself studying the way the early light caught the strong line of his jaw, the way his dark lashes cast shadows across his cheekbones.
God, he was beautiful. Not in the pretty-boy way that some men were, but in the rugged, battle-tested way that spoke of strength and survival. Scars mapped stories across his skin—some she knew, some she didn't. The puckered mark on his shoulder from Mali. The thin line across his ribs from that clusterfuck in Syria. Each one a reminder of how close she'd come to losing him before she'd ever really had him.
Her chest tightened.
When had he become so essential? When had the thought of a world without him in it become unbearable?
She knew the answer, had probably known it for longer than she'd been willing to admit. It wasn't one moment, one grand gesture. It was all the small things. The way he always made sure she ate during long ops. How he never made her feel weak for needing space, but never let her disappear completely, either. The way he looked at her like she was worth fighting for, even when she didn't believe it herself.
Especially then.
His breathing shifted slightly, and she held still, not wanting to wake him. Not yet. She wanted a few more minutes of this—of him, peaceful and unguarded, of the illusion that they were just two people who cared about each other, not a soldier and a sailor heading into what could very well be their last mission.
The thought hit her like a physical blow.
She could lose him. Today, tomorrow, next week—it didn't matter when. This life they'd chosen, this world of bullets and betrayal, it didn't make promises. It didn't guarantee tomorrows. All they had was this moment, right now, and she'd been too scared to claim it.
Too scared to tell him what he meant to her.
The realization settled in her chest like a stone. She loved him. Not the careful, measured affection she'd convinced herself was enough. Not the physical attraction that had kept drawing them back to each other over the years. She loved him with a fierceness that terrified her, with a completeness that made her feel both invincible and utterly vulnerable.
She loved Kawan Noa, and she'd been too much of a coward to say so.
Her throat tightened, and she carefully extracted herself from his arms, slipping out of bed with the practiced silence of someone accustomed to moving undetected. She pulled on yoga pants and a hoodie, then paused at the side of the bed.
He looked younger in sleep, the lines of worry and responsibility smoothed away. Her fingers itched to trace the curve of his mouth, to memorize the feel of his skin under her hands. Instead, she allowed herself one gentle touch—fingertips brushing across his cheek in a whisper-soft caress.
His eyes fluttered open, immediately alert despite having been deep asleep moments before. "Lark?"
"I'm meeting Henley," she said softly. "Early session before we leave. I promised, and if nothing else, I’m a woman of my word.”
