“Is it?” She moved closer, putting a hand on his chest. “Because I seem to remember a certain Cire warrior telling me that fear couldn’t be allowed to steal our happiness.”
He caught her hand, holding it against his heart. “That was before I knew the Council was actively searching for Cire children.”
“The Council has always been a threat. This isn’t new information.”
“It is more urgent. More dangerous. Taranov sought us out specifically. That means others know where we are.”
“Or it means Taranov was looking for allies. For other families in the same situation.”
“Perhaps.” He pulled her closer, careful of her belly. “But I cannot take that risk. I will not lose another family.”
The words hung between them, heavy with old grief and fresh fear, and her expression softened.
“I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. But running won’t solve this. If the Council wants to find us, they will. Eventually.”
“Then what would you have me do?”
“Stay. Build the life we want and defend it if we have to.” She cupped his face. “You’re not alone in this anymore, Selik. We’re a family. We make decisions together.”
He wanted to argue, to insist that his experience and military training made him better equipped to assess threats and make strategic decisions. But looking into her eyes—seeing the determination and steel beneath the warmth—he knew she was right. They were stronger together. And treating her like afragile thing to be protected rather than a partner with her own strength was an insult to everything she’d survived.
“I do not want to lose you,” he said quietly.
“Then don’t. Stay with me. Trust me. Let us face this together instead of making decisions based on fear.”
Before he could respond, Anya appeared in the doorway. “Someone’s coming up the path.”
He moved instantly, positioning himself between his family and the door. “Who?”
“I don’t know, but he’s Cire.”
Taranov.
“Get Corinne and Mikoz to the back room. Now.”
“I’m not hiding,” Corinne said.
“You are carrying our child. You will do as I say.”
Her eyes flashed. “Excuse me?”
“Please.” He gentled his tone with effort. “Please. Let me handle this. If it is safe, I will call for you.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded. “Five minutes. Then I’m coming out whether you call or not.”
“Agreed.”
Anya helped Corinne toward the back of the house while he checked the second weapon hidden in the drawer by the door. His first weapon was already in his hand. He wouldn’t use it unless absolutely necessary. But he would use it if it meant protecting his family.
The knock came—firm but not aggressive.
He waited, counting heartbeats.
Another knock. “Commander Selik? It is Taranov nak’Toren. I wish to speak with you. I am alone and unarmed.”
Praying he wasn’t making a mistake, he opened the door, gun held low but ready.
“State your business.”
