“That won’t be a problem,” Cormac says. “My glamour will hide us from everyone but you, apparently.”
Astrid's eyebrow arches sharply. "What do you mean 'but me'?"
"Exactly what I said." Cormac's tone holds a hint of amusement that makes my fingers twitch with the urge to wipe it off his face. "My glamour will affect everyone else. Not you."
"Why not?" she challenges, arms crossing over her chest. The stance pushes her closer to me, though I doubt she realizes it. "What makes me special?"
Cormac's eyes flick to me, then back to her. "Your connection to Fen."
The room goes still. I watch her profile carefully, see the subtle widening of her eyes, the momentary parting of her lips. Surprise. Confusion.
"What connection?" Her voice is quieter now, careful. Dangerous.
"There is a link between you," Cormac explains, with that infuriating calm.
Her heartbeat quickens. I can hear it, the rapid flutter beneath her ribs. Smell the complex cocktail of emotions rolling off her skin. Wariness. Interest. Arousal.
She turns slightly toward me, not quite meeting my eyes. "Is that true?"
The question hangs between us, loaded with implications neither of us is ready to voice.
"Yes." One word. All I can manage with my wolf prowling so close to the surface, desperate to confirm what Cormac has revealed.
She absorbs this, jaw tightening. "Convenient," she finally says, voice clipped as she turns back to the matter at hand. But the way her body remains angled toward mine tells a different story.
My wolf knows. She feels it too.
"What's the official mission objective?" Cormac asks, smoothly redirecting the conversation. “What did you tell your commanding officer?”
Astrid leans against the counter, crossing her arms. "Human trafficking. I told them I'd observed transport vehicles and cage-like structures during surveillance. Which isn't a lie," she adds. "Just not the whole truth."
"And they approved based on that?" Cormac asks.
"Human trafficking is a priority concern." She shrugs. "Plus, I said it was linked to the Enclave, which is guaranteed to get Hayes' attention."
"They are Enclave."
"I know," she says, a flash of frustration crossing her face. "But I couldn't tell them how I know. I couldn't mention Tharin, or other planets, or..." Her eyes meet mine. "Or you."
She's protecting me. Choosing me over her duty. I force my hands to remain at my sides, though they itch to reach for her. To mark her with my scent. To show Cormac and anyone else exactly where her allegiance now lies.
The coffee finishes brewing, and she pours three mugs, handing them out before leading us to her small dining table. Spread across it are several maps and what appear to be building schematics.
"I pulled these from the city planning office," she explains, tapping the blueprints. "They're outdated. The warehouse was renovated five years ago. But it’s the best we have."
Cormac and I lean in, studying the layout. The warehouse is larger than it appears from the outside, with a maze of storage rooms.
"Our approach will be from the east," Astrid continues, pointing to the main entrance. "Standard breach and clear. Ghost will take point, I'll cover the flank, and Sherlock will handle tech and communications."
I don’t like it. Her in the open. Exposed. Vulnerable. "You're the first target they'll see after Ghost," I say. "That position puts you directly in the line of fire."
Her eyes narrow slightly. Challenge accepted.
"I'm not on point. It's the most defensible position while maintaining offensive capabilities."
She speaks like a soldier. Thinks like one too. My wolf hates it—wants her far from danger—but the warrior in me recognizes sound tactics.
I lean closer, finger tracing a different path on the blueprint. "This approach gives better coverage. More shadows. Less exposure."
