He dropped into the chair. His training demanded he consider it. Worst-case scenarios. Contingency plans. The kind of cold analysis that kept soldiers alive in hostile territory.
What if she told someone? Not maliciously—but out of fear, or confusion, or a misguided attempt to protect herself. What if she reached out to authorities, to friends, to anyone who might appear like a safe harbor from the storm she’d stumbled into?
Each possibility branched into darker outcomes. Exposure. Investigation. Attention. His training kicked in, running calculations he didn’t want to make.
If the information spread…
Law enforcement would ask questions he couldn’t answer. Media attention would follow, exposing everything—Nick and David included. Kate and Lena would be dragged into it too, and they had their own secrets to hide. Military intelligence would take an interest, as well as other organizations, the kind that operated in the shadows and believed people like him were weapons to be controlled or assets to be acquired.
He’d become a target. Anyone close to him would be caught in the blast radius. His brothers. The people he’d spent his entire life protecting.
Zach’s jaw tightened. His mind catalogued the risks with mechanical efficiency, each possibility worse than the last.
Questions. Investigations. People who would want to study what made him different, or worse—try to weaponize it.
Zach reached out telepathically, the connection snapping into place with familiar ease, thankful Nick kept the line open to them.Nick. David. We have a problem.
Nick’s response came first, sharp with immediate attention.Status?
Two issues. First, an assassin made an attempt on Emma tonight. I stopped him, but he got away.
Static. Nick’s emotions were interfering with his ability.Either of you hurt?
She's fine. His knife grazed my shoulder. Will be healed in a day. That’s not the problem.
He took a breath.
Emma knows.Zach kept his mental voice level, operational.About me. What I am. The attack forced my hand; she saw… She pushed for answers, and I told her.
A beat before David asked,How’d she take it?
Not well.The understatement felt bitter.She’s processing. Alone. In the other room.
Is she a threat?Nick’s question was analytical, with no judgment attached.
Not directly.The answer came without hesitation.But I need you watching for any signs of exposure. Tampering with the network, unusual communication patterns, anything that suggests information is moving beyond the island. Anyone showing uncommon interest in security protocols or asking about me.
He paused.I caught a crossbow bolt aimed at Emma. The assassin would have seen it.
Understood,David said.We’re at the hotel now, working on the network implementation. We’ll monitor everything. I’ll also step up scanning for more sabotage attempts. I’ve been developing a monitoring worm for our system. I can tweak it to scan for communication about you and deploy it.
Zach?Nick’s tone softened.You good?
Operational.It was the only answer he had.
He severed the connection and returned to silence.
Except it wasn’t silence. Not really.
From the bedroom, he heard movement—Emma shifting on the bed. The rustle of sheets. Her breath catching once, like someone fighting for control.
The sound hit harder than any fist.
Because Emma didn’t break. She was steady under pressure, calm when everything went sideways. She was the person who focused instead of panicked, who treated him like a human being when everyone else saw a weapon.
Who now also saw him as a weapon.
And she was on the other side of that door, struggling with knowledge he had forced on her.
