Meridian clicked on the comms. “Ravens check to command.”
“Check received,” Jo answered.
“Site secure. Collapse the line.” Meridian droned.
Spectre’s voice came next. “All teams. Clear and retrieve.”
The field support teams flooded in, forming a protective funnel, followed by medical transports.
“Hostages moving,” Gage said in their ears.
Scar walked with his partner as he guided them out of view of the massacred bodies.
A woman grabbed Gage’s sleeve, weeping and offering blessings, prompting the rest of congregation to do the same.
Scar could only stare as pride bloomed in his chest.
He’d thought Gage’s mercy—and his hard stand against murder—would get him or all of them killed, thought his Christian morals were a liability in a world so cruel.
He’d never been happier to be proven wrong.
Gage’s humanity was a line that kept the rest of them from crossing and becoming the very things they hunted.
Gage insisted they all wait as the medics covered every hostage with a blanket, then checked over each one—including the boy’s—vitals and tended to wounds. A few of them were pretty badly beaten, but no one had been fatally wounded.
“Ravens, you’re clear to exfil,” Corvo said.
Once they were gone, the Post Action Recovery Unit would come in, remove the bodies, and do whatever it is they did with them.
Scar didn’t care enough to know, but he was sure they didn’t receive proper burials.
All he cared about now was how fast that super jet could get him and his new husband home.
White Ravens
Gage
Gage had one thing on his mind when he rushed through the doors at headquarters.
Scar. Naked.
Jo had been concerned about the village’s security and requested they stay an extra three days to ensure no further retaliation, which made his and Scar’s no-touching rule feel like an eternity.
The staff was buzzing from the success of the mission and excited that all the Ravens were finally together.
Everyone wanted them to save the world, to fix all that was wrong, and he was all for it, but he refused to do anything else—no training, physical fitness, medical exams, or missions—until he was no longer a virgin.
Unquenched need twisted stronger inside him with every passing hour.
Now that they were back and only a few floors from his bed, his body thrummed with raw hunger, every nerve aware of Scar’s nearness and the intoxicating scent of sweat and gun oil that clung to his skin.
Their assistants—Rose, Joshua, Mina, and Calder—trailed behind them, voices overlapping as they rushed to debrief them.
“Gage, your latest retinal scan results came back, Dr. Rockwell wants—”
He waved a dismissive hand in her direction. “Not now, Rose.”
They reached the elevator just as the doors slid open.
