“Definitely.”
I shrug. “Still right.”
Silence settles again, thick and charged.
“You should request reassignment,” she says. “This isn’t going to go the way you think.”
I grin slowly.
“I hope not.”
Her gaze hardens further.
“You’re going to regret this.”
“Probably,” I admit. “Still doing it.”
“Doing what?” she presses.
I lean in slightly, just enough to close the distance without touching the fence.
“Standing right here,” I say. “Every time.”
Her lips press into a thin line.
“Then I’ll be right here too,” she replies.
“Good.”
We hold eye contact, neither of us backing down, the space between us humming with something that isn’t just tension anymore.
Because whatever this is?—
It’s not routine.
And I’m not done with it yet.
CHAPTER 3
JOLIE
The heat sits heavier on the border today, pressing down into the metal and dust until everything feels like it’s holding its breath. The fence hums louder than usual, a low electric vibration that crawls across my skin and settles behind my eyes, making it harder to ignore anything that feels even slightly off. The air tastes like scorched grit and old plasma discharge, dry enough that it pulls at the inside of my throat every time I breathe.
And he’s already there.
Of course he is.
Hrask stands exactly where he wants to be, planted across from my approach point like he claimed the ground hours ago and never bothered to move. The sunlight catches along the edges of his horns and shoulders, outlining him in sharp contrast against the hazy skyline behind him. He isn’t pretending to patrol. He isn’t pretending to care.
He’s waiting.
For me.
I don’t slow down as I approach, but I don’t look anywhere else either. My focus locks onto him the way it would lock onto a threat, measuring distance, posture, readiness. My boots grindagainst the brittle dirt, each step deliberate, controlled, until I stop just short of the fence where the current prickles faintly through the air between us.
“Where is he?” I ask.
No preamble. No wasted time.
