We reach the hidden exit just as shouts echo from the stairwell.
"Astrid, I—" My wolf surges against my control, nearly breaking free. Fur ripples along my arms. No. No. No. The thought of her facing danger while I retreat feels like being torn in two.
"I'm telling you to get out," she cuts me off. "Now. I will not hurt my partner to save you."
The command in her voice is unmistakable and it’s just what my wolf needed to hear. I back through the doorway, eyes fixed on the dimly lit corridor where I know she and Sherlock must be.
"Be safe," I whisper, though I don't know if she hears it.
The door closes between us, and I'm left with the terrible weight of trusting her to handle whatever comes next.
Episode 10
CHAPTER 31
This Is The Moment
* * *
Astrid Mathieson
I follow Sherlock down the narrow staircase, my blades drawn and ready. The lower level is bathed in dim emergency lighting. We move in perfect sync, clearing corners with practiced efficiency. Years of training have made us an effective unit, despite the complications between us.
"Clear left," I whisper, covering his six as he advances.
"Movement ahead," he signals, ducking behind a support column.
I slide into position across from him, using hand signals to indicate I'll provide cover while he moves forward. The flickering lights cast eerie shadows across the corridor, but the stillness ahead confirms what I already know. This level has been cleared.
My pulse quickens as I prepare to face the evidence of Fen’s team rescuing people and craft a believable reaction.
We round the final corner into the detention area and Sherlock freezes.
Bodies litter the floor. Enclave guards. Some clearly dead, others unconscious. No prisoners in sight. Cage doors hang open. Exactly as expected, but now comes the hard part—selling my surprise.
"What the hell happened here?" Sherlock’s weapon is trained on the nearest body as he approaches to check for signs of life.
I keep my expression neutral, though my heart hammers against my ribs. Not from shock, but from the fear of discovery. "Looks like the prisoners used the chaos upstairs as a distraction." I gesture to the bruised knuckles on one guard's hand, mentally thanking Fen for leaving such convenient evidence. "Must've fought back when they heard the commotion."
Sherlock's eyes narrow, that familiar analytical expression settling over his features. "Maybe. But where did they go?"
The question hangs in the air between us, heavy with suspicion. I shrug, deliberately casual. "We need to find out."
He studies me for a long moment, then nods curtly and activates his comm. "Lower level secure. Multiple hostiles down, prisoners unaccounted for."
"Copy that," Ghost's voice crackles through our earpieces. "Incoming with backup."
I move methodically through the detention area, checking each cell with deliberate slowness. Every minute I can stall is another minute Fen puts between himself and our team. All empty, with no signs of where twenty plus captives could have disappeared to. My stomach twists with anxiety. I have no idea how far they've gotten. The plan was solid, but plans always look better on paper than in execution. What if they're still on the premises? What if Fen lingered too long helping the weaker ones?
I drag my inspection out, running my fingers along cell bars, squatting to examine scuff marks on the floor—anything to buy them more time. But beneath my calculated delay tactics, a cold fear spreads through my chest. If Sherlock finds the back door before Fen clears the perimeter...
* * *
"This doesn't make sense," he says, examining one of the broken lock panels. Shit. "No way the prisoners could have just broken these, especially not during the short time we were engaged upstairs."
"Maybe they had help," I suggest, my voice carefully neutral while my mind races for plausible explanations. Keep him theorizing. Keep him here.
Sherlock looks up sharply. "That’s ridiculous, Blades."
