The room is silent. Heavy.
Kieran’s hands are clasped tightly on the table. He knows. Survived this.
I finish the list. Twenty-three names. Twenty-three reasons we can’t wait.
“Timeline is critical,” I conclude. “Vex rotates subjects through procedures on schedule. Two weeks before the next testing phase. After that, survival rates drop.”
Throughout the briefing, my dragon keeps surging. Every time Nadia shifts position. Every time she breathes. Every time her fragrance changes with emotion I can’t read because I won’t look at her.
My body remembers hers. Remembers exactly how she felt. Remembers the sounds she made. Remembers being buried inside her while she begged me to mark her permanently.
I lock it down. Focus on the mission. On the people who need saving. On anything except the pull that won’t quit, no matter how hard I fight it.
Viktor studies the data. “Confidence level in this intelligence?”
“Complete. I compiled these files personally. Current as of six days ago when I retrieved them from secure storage before defecting.”
“Security protocols? You can bypass them?”
“Yes.”
“Success probability assessment?”
“Infiltration approach—seventy percent mission success, ninety percent prisoner extraction, thirty percent Vex capture before escape.”
“Fast assault?”
“Fifty percent success, sixty percent extraction, ten percent Vex capture. Expect casualties.”
The numbers settle heavily.
Viktor looks around. “Questions?”
They come rapidly. Logistical details. Equipment needs. Contingencies. I answer each one with the discipline that’s kept me functional through combat, command, situations where hesitation meant death.
But underneath, I’m barely holding together. My dragon keeps demanding I look at her. My fire keeps rising. My body keeps responding to her proximity in ways I can’t control.
I’ve built my existence on control. On discipline. On the ability to suppress want in favor of necessity.
It’s failing.
The briefing runs for ninety minutes. By the end, we have a preliminary timeline: three days for reconnaissanceand team preparation, then execution. Equipment lists. Team composition. Contingency protocols.
It’s solid planning. Professional work.
“Commander Allon.” Viktor stands. “Well done. We’ll finalize details tomorrow. Dismissed.”
The room begins clearing. People breaking into smaller groups.
I need to find Nadia. Need to talk to her about last night. About what it meant. About—
Viktor intercepts me. “A word.”
I follow him to the side of the room.
“Impressive work,” he says. Direct. “Your intelligence is thorough. Your assessment sound. The Council met this morning and voted to remove your probationary restrictions.”
I process that. “Meaning?”
