Thiago stood in the hallway. Still in the tactical gear from the clearing, his expression carrying the satisfied warmth of a father at a graduation ceremony. Behind him, a guard held a tray with food and water.
“May I come in?”
I stepped aside. He entered the way he always did, scanning the room before settling into the chair by the window. The guard placed the tray on the desk and left.
“You exceeded my expectations this morning.” Thiago crossed one leg over the other. Comfortable. “The precision, the commitment, even your approach was clinical. I was impressed.”
“I meant every second of it.”
“I know you did.” His smile widened. “We miscalculated one factor. The wolf that intervened. Someone we’ve been tracking for years, a ghost operating in our perimeter.” His jaw tightened briefly before the pleasant expression returned. “We’ll deal with him. He’s been a thorn for too long.”
I had no idea who it could be but judging from how he saved the three, maybe a lycan from Veyndral too. They even came with a woman fighter, from what I’d gathered earlier.
I said nothing. Took a sip of water.
“Your mates are severely weakened.” Thiago’s tone shifted to clinical.
“The silver compound will keep the king incapacitated for days. The other two absorbed enough sedatives to limit their capabilities. We finally got to try it on stronger lycans. It seems to uphold quality. And their morale...” He tilted his head. “Well. Watching the woman bonded to them try killing them will do more damage than any weapon I’ve developed. It’s one major error for such monsters.”
The casual cruelty of it sat between us.
“You should rest,” he said. “Take the day. Sleep if you can.”
Thiago reached into his jacket and produced a keycard. White, unmarked, with a magnetic strip along one edge.
“You’ve earned full clearance. Research archives, sublevels, everything except the armory. I want you to understand the scope of our work, Mira. No more locked doors.”
I took the keycard. Kept my hand steady despite the electricity that shot through my chest.
This. This was what the trial bought.
“Thank you.”
Thiago stood. Paused at the door. “I’m proud of you, sweetheart. Your mother would have been too.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
I counted to sixty. Then I locked the door, crossed to the bed, and sat on the edge.
The mask fell.
My hands found my stomach. Flat still, barely a whisper of change that only I could notice. I pressed my palms against the skin beneath my shirt and curled forward until my forehead nearly touched my knees.
“Hey,” I whispered. “It’s me. Your mom. I know I keep saying that and you probably can’t hear me yet, but I’m going to keep saying it because apparently I’ve become the kind of person who talks to her own belly.”
Silence. Obviously.
“I did a bad thing today. A really bad thing for a really good reason, but your dads are probably bleeding and confused and I’m going to need a few minutes before I can process that without falling apart.” I pressed harder against my stomach. “But we’re okay. You and me. We’re okay in here.”
The bond pulsed. Faint, barely a flutter through the wall that separated me from them. Not words or emotion. Just a single beat of acknowledgment, of presence, filtering through from the other side.
Lucian.
My eyes burned because I had to hurt him the most. He was their king. My father would appreciate having to weaken the king.
I swallowed it down, pressed my forehead to my knees, and breathed until the burning passed.
Then I stood up. Picked up the keycard. And went to work.
