Tears burn behind my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. Won’t let myself break down. Not yet.
Tomorrow the heat will be gone. Tomorrow I’ll wake up clearheaded and rational and able to see this situation for what it really is.
Of course I will.
Then I’ll know if this meant anything. Or if I just made a catastrophic mistake.
Then I’ll know if I can live with what I’ve done. Or if the guilt will eat me alive.
I close my eyes. Rest my head against the door. Try to slow my heartbeat. Try to stop smelling him everywhere. Try to stop feeling the ghost of him moving inside me.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow I’ll know.
Chapter 22
Jericho
I arrive early for the briefing, a habit from decades of command. Better to assess the space and the people before engaging.
It’s larger than I expected. A conference table that seats twenty. Graphic displays on the walls showing Aurora’s operational range. Maps. Data screens. Professional setup.
People are already gathering. I recognize a few from intelligence files or brief encounters. Viktor. Kael Craven. Vanya, the former Shadowhand. The rest are unfamiliar—dragons I can identify by their energy, wolves by the way they move, a few whose species I can’t immediately place.
They watch me enter with varying degrees of suspicion or curiosity. Some hostile. Some merely assessing. All wondering if bringing me here was the right call.
I take a position near the tactical display. Not at the table—I haven’t earned that yet. Just close enough to present information when called.
Then Nadia walks in.
My hands clench in response to my dragon’s instinctive need to move to her. She’s in tactical gear—standard Aurora black, weapons holstered, hair pulled back, severe and controlled. Professional.
Our eyes meet across the room.
For half a second, I see her facade slip. Something vulnerable underneath. Something that looks like she wants to reach out. Wants to acknowledge what happened between us. Wants—
I look away.
Turn my attention to the display. Pull up files. Look at anything except her face.
Because if I hold that gaze, I’ll lose the composure I’ve been barely maintaining since she walked out of the training facility. If I let myself want what I saw in her eyes, I’ll break.
So I cut her off. Deliberate. Cold. The only way I can function.
When I glance back, she’s taken a seat on the far side of the table. Expression blank. Whatever I saw is gone.
Viktor stands, and the room settles. “Let’s begin. Before we start, introductions.” He gestures around the table. “Commander Allon, you know some faces. Others you don’t.”
A woman with dark hair and witch energy speaks first. “Elena. Caleb’s mate.” She nods toward the dragon beside her—younger, sharp-edged authority.
“Caleb Craven,” he says. Assessing me with dragon sight.
His twin across the table. “Dorian Craven.”
A blonde woman beside Dorian. “Juno.” I blink. The phoenix. I’ve heard the stories about her. Formidable. You’d never know it to see her; she’s almost delicate.
They continue around the table. Names and faces I commit to memory. Luke. Tabitha. Samien. Iris and Riven. Kieran—who watches me with particular hostility. Lila Ross with Talon. Hargen beside Vanya.
