My chest burned with the weight of it. Not a demand. A promise.
"Deal," I said, grounding myself in it. In them.
Grayson. Kearan. Me. The rest of my mates.
We weren't perfect. We were broken in ways that didn't have neat labels or pretty fixes. But we were together. And maybe that was enough.
CHAPTER 16
WE'RE AN ELITE TEAM WITH CLEARANCE LEVELS THAT EXCEED YOURS.
"They're waiting, by the way. Team 5."
And just like that, the warmth drained from the room. The cozy space seemed to contract, the walls closing in despite their soft paint colors and tasteful art.
"How do they seem?" I asked, straightening my spine, squaring my shoulders.
Grayson's expression hardened. "Arrogant. Impatient. Not thrilled about being summoned by—" He cut himself off.
"By the half-breed demon freak with scrambled brains, who is the least qualified being on the planet for this shit?" I finished for him, my voice deliberately light. "Shocking."
His jaw tightened. "That's not what I?—"
"I know." I waved off his concern, even as my stomach clenched. "Send them in. Let's get this over with."
Grayson hesitated, his eyes searching mine. "You don't have to do this alone, you know."
"I'm not alone." I met his gaze steadily. "You'll be here. And Kearan." I glanced toward the quiet figure working at the command console, his back to us. "Right, Kearan?"
Kearan didn't turn, but his shoulders shifted, acknowledging my words.
"Send them in," I grumbled to Grayson, my voice steady now. My stomach wasn't. It twisted and knotted, but I shoved the feeling down, locked it away with all the other inconvenient emotions that had no place in this moment.
Grayson nodded once, then moved to the door. I watched him go, grateful for the few seconds alone to compose myself. When the door opened again, I was ready… spine straight, expression neutral, hands relaxed on the arms of the chair. The picture of confidence I absolutely did not feel.
Supernatural Team 5 walked in like they owned the damn place. Five of them—three men, two women—each one radiating power and barely concealed disdain. They moved with predatory grace, spreading out instinctively to take strategic positions around the room. Not one of them bowed. Not one of them smiled. A couple didn't even make eye contact.
Good. At least they weren't pretending to respect me.
"Please sit." I gestured to the arranged seating, my voice calm and cool. Professional.
They exchanged glances… subtle, quick, loaded with meaning… before settling into chairs and couches with practiced ease. Their bodies looked relaxed, but I saw the tension humming beneath the surface. Coiled energy. Readiness.
"I appreciate you making time for this meeting," I continued, the words formal and deliberate.
One of them—tall, with shoulders like a linebacker and a jawline that could cut glass—snorted. Not loudly. Just enough to make his opinion clear. Richard.
I kept my expression pleasant, even as my fingers twitched with the urge to slap that smug look off his face. "I understand you just returned from a mission in Denver. Successful, I'm told."
"Read the report." The words came from a woman on my left, her voice clipped and cold. She wore her blonde hair pulled back so tightly it looked painful, her face all sharp angles and rigid control. I tried to recall her name, but Grayson pushed it to me mentally. Natalie.
"I did." I smiled, letting a hint of teeth show. "I found it... incomplete."
That got their attention. Spines straightened. Eyes narrowed. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
Grayson stood beside me, quiet but present, our psychic bond a steady pulse behind my ribs. I felt him reaching out, brushing against the edges of their minds, searching for anomalies. For darkness. For possession.
Kearan hung back near the console, his fingers moving steadily over a tablet. Logging reactions. Body language. Every micro-expression that might give them away, even if I couldn't identify these people later when their faces blurred and shifted in my memory.
