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He wasn’t lecturing me or waiting for me to fight him. He knew.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket.

“Good.”

His gaze stayed on mine for another second before somebody screamed inside the Widow’s Cellar and applause followed.

The scream had been fake danger, scheduled and timed exactly where it belonged. I had never appreciated the distinction more.

By closing, the cold had settled hard enough that my fingertips ached whenever I took off my gloves.

The final visitors cleared the section nearest our last checks. Staff confirmed each group through the radios, then began peeling away toward sign-out.

I sent the reset crew ahead to finish their own areas and told the section lead to keep the closed structures untouched.

The workroom door clicked shut behind Damien and me.

The sudden quiet felt enormous.

For hours, somebody had been speaking into my ear, crossing my path, asking me a question, needing a decision.

Now there was only the hum of the radio chargers and Damien leaning against the locked door.

I set my binder on the table.

“We have maybe ten minutes before I need to check the rear transition.”

“I know.”

I looked at him.

The room was too small for six-foot-four to look casual in it. His field jacket was zipped against the cold, dark hair falling over the collar. Exhaustion had roughened the edges of him without making him look less alert.

My heart started beating harder, not from Grant or the call, but from Damien.

“I’ve spent the last five hours trying not to do this,” I said.

His eyes darkened.

“Do what?”

I crossed the room and kissed him.

He caught me around the waist hard enough that my feet almost left the floor.

The kiss had none of last night’s patience.

His mouth opened over mine, beard rough against my face, one hand spreading across my lower back while the other slid into my hair. I fisted the front of his jacket and dragged him closer even though there was no space left between us.

He broke away first, barely. His breathing was already heavier. “Sybil, we’re at work. We have to go back out there.”

“I noticed.” I kept my fist in his jacket. “I still want you.”

His forehead touched mine.

“This isn’t because you’re scared?”

I caught his beard in my fingers and made him look at me.