I told myself I was safe.
Some nights he slept like a man who had earned it. Other nights, I felt him slip away from the bed with the quiet care of someone trying not to wake the dead. When I asked where he went, he gave me the truth that wasn’t the whole truth.
“Work,” he said.
I didn’t confront it. Not yet, I didn’t want to be the one who cracked the thin, fragile shape we’d built around our days. The new normal he’d given me was almost believable. Almost enough to make my body stop bracing for impact.
Almost.
I’m still thinking about all of it when the day fractures.
I’m pulled from my thoughts by the pounding of boots on the too-calm side street we’re walking through, the air heavy with the smell of pastries and bread from a nearby shop.
Atlas hears it at the same moment I do. His stride shortens, his shoulder shifting just enough that he’s already angling toward me without touching me.
The guard comes into view, cloak snapping wetly against his legs, breath already ragged. He skids to a halt a few paces away, water splashing up around his boots. He snaps a salute that’s more instinct than form.
“Lord,” he says, voice tight. “The outer patrol missed its check-in.”
Atlas stilled at that.
Not the way men freeze when they’re surprised. The way predators pause when they’ve confirmed a trail.
“How long,” he asks.
The guard swallows. “Long enough that it isn’t a delay.”
Thunder rolls overhead, sudden and close, the sound cracking across the low sky like stone breaking.
I turned to Atlas and met his gaze, understanding falling between us without a word.
The guard shifts his weight, uneasy under the silence. “Orders?”
Atlas’s gaze lifts briefly, tracking the clouds as if the storm had already begun speaking to him.
“Find them,” he said to the guard. His voice even, controlled. “Hold position if you make contact.”
The guard nods quickly.
“I’ll take the outer line,” Atlas adds.
The guard hesitates, just a fraction. “Lord…”
“I said hold,” Atlas repeated, and the word landed like law. “You’re not to engage unless I give the order. If you find them, or anything out of pattern, you send word to me immediately.”
The guard straightened at once. “Yes, Lord.”
He turned and ran, boots striking stone hard enough to splash water up the walls as he disappeared down the street.
I turned to Atlas and met his gaze, resolve settling in before he could speak.
“I’m coming with you,” I said.
Atlas’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes went dark. “No.”
“That wasn’t a question,” I said.
“It is when the answer is no,” he replied.
