Page 115 of Operation: Defiance

Not thrillers. Not science fiction. Not biographies. Manuals.

Structures.

Systems.

The way things are supposed to work, even when people use them to break things instead of fix them.

It’s the first time I feel a clean overlap between us that isn’t pain or survival.

I file each fact away. Edges of a person, not a dossier.

With a shaky breath, I lift my gaze to his. “My turn?”

“Only if you want it to be.”

He’s giving me another choice. One I’m not quite sure what to do with.

My heartbeat ticks up, and the briefest tremor runs through my right hand. But after a moment, it fades.

“When I was a kid, puzzles were the only thing that quieted my brain. But they were expensive—especially the big ones—so I started turning them upside down because right side up stopped being interesting.”

“So, you don’t do things the easy way.” One corner of his mouth lifts. “Good. Easy is overrated.”

“Are you sure?” My voice drops to a whisper.

“Raine,” he says, leaning forward slightly, “if I wanted easy, I would have gone into emergency medicine.”

The weight to his tone settles something in me I didn’t know needed settling.

“Tea,” I say quietly. “Food. Talking? It helps.”

He nods once. “Good. Then we’ll keep doing it until you’re ready for more.”

I let my head rest against the pillow. My fingers find the edge of the blanket. My toes curl inside the socks.

They meant to strip me down to nothing. Instead, I’m safe with a man who won’t touch me without permission. Who offers me choices, not commands.

It’s not enough. But maybe…it’s a start.

Asher

She’s pale again, but she’s not disappearing. Her gaze is clear and tracking. Her mind—the one they tried to break—is already building sequences and patterns to fight back.

“Raine?”

Her eyes flick back to mine.

“Before we start, I need you to understand one thing. This—what we’re about to do—it’s your choice. Not theirs. You’re not reliving it. You survived it. All we’re doing is making sure it can’t be erased.”

“I know. Mostly,” she says. “Do we start now?”

I glance down at my watch. “We’ve still got five minutes. You’re actively encouraged to rest before you go to war.”

Her mouth twitches at that. Not a smile. But close.

“I’m not at war,” she says. “Not yet.”

“Then call it reconnaissance,” I say. “But either way, you’re not going into it alone.”