“Are you the Funny Man with Sharp Teeth?” she asks.
The tension in my chest cracks. I crouch down slowly, metal grinding on metal, until I am eye-level with her.
“I have sharp teeth,” I admit. I bare them slightly.
She doesn’t flinch. She reaches out and pokes my fang. “Cool.”
I look up at Liora. She’s holding her breath, hands trembling.
“I won’t expose her,” I say to Liora, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I won’t hurt her. But I am not leaving.”
Liora wipes her face. “You can’t just?—”
“I signed the contract,” I say, standing up. “I’m your co-star now. I’m going to be right here. Every day. Until you trust me enough to tell me the truth.”
She stares at me, defeated and relieved all at once.
“Okay,” she breathes. “Okay.”
“Good.” I look at Pepper. “Nice to meet you, Pepper.”
She beams. “You too, Dad-guy.”
I walk out of the trailer before my heart explodes.
I’m back. And I’m patient. I will wait for her to say the words.
CHAPTER 29
LIORA
Iarrive on set just after dawn. The morning air smells like spilled coffee and hot acrylic paint—routine for a studio lot, but today it feels heavy, charged. I walk past the trailers toward Stage 12B. The cast is arriving, voices low, crew members dragging cables like tethered beasts. But the usual sleepy grumbling is gone, replaced by a nervous, electric energy.
They know. Everyone knows.
Gyon is already there.
He towers by the props rack, silent and brooding. He’s fully armored—his real armor, not the plastic junk Kane was wearing yesterday. The scorch marks on his plating catch the spotlight. He looks less like an actor and more like a weapon someone left leaning against the wall.
The ensemble cast gives him a wide berth. Kane DeSoto—now demoted to "Background Reaper #1"—slinks near the craft services table, holding his plastic horns and looking like he wants to cry.
“Morning, Ms. Rin!” Miles Maximus booms from his perch. He looks like he hasn't slept in a week, fueled entirely by the prospect of box office records. “Big day! The re-shoot ofthe ‘First Contact’ sequence. Now with 100% more authentic terror!”
I nod and force a smile. My stomach twists. My coffee is already cold in my hand.
I walk toward Gyon. He doesn’t look at me at first; he’s staring at a monitor screen, cables looping around his boots.
“Hi,” I whisper.
He turns. The red glow of his eyes—no visor to hide them today—drills into me. “You didn’t sleep.”
“Neither did you,” I counter.
“I don’t need to sleep when I’m hunting,” he says low enough that only I can hear. “And right now, I’m hunting for the truth.”
I flush, glancing around to see if anyone heard. “Gyon, please. Not here.”
He grunts but says nothing else. The tension between us is thick enough to choke on.
