Jamie huffs, but there’s less bite in it now. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And yet,” Caly replies lightly, “still correct.”
Jack watches the exchange, his shoulders sagging a little, though his eyes stay clear and alert. He looks at me for a second, something like gratitude flickering there before it’s gone again. “Let’s move,” he says.
No one argues this time. Because now they all understand that this isn’t just about keeping Jamie safe from the queen. It’s about keeping him safe from everything desperation might turn this place into if things go bad enough.
We move as a group, slipping into a narrower passage that winds deeper into Dathanor. The light shifts here, dims, the glow-veins in the stone thinner and more intermittent. Sound carries differently, too, dampened by the smaller space.
Halfway down the cave corridor, Jamie slows just enough to fall into step beside me.
“They’re not going to send me out there, are they?” he asks quietly.
The question weighs heavier than it should for how softly it’s spoken.
“No,” I say, just as quiet.
“Even if it means Dawson stays there?”
I don’t answer immediately because there isn’t a clean answer to give. Because the truth is complicated and ugly and tied up in a dozen other lives that aren’t his to carry.
Jamie glances at me, reading the hesitation anyway. “Right,” he says.
“Hey,” I add, stopping him before he can spiral too far down that line of thought. “Being important doesn’t mean you owe anyone your life. Not her. Not us. Not anyone.”
He looks at me properly then, something searching and intent in his expression. “Feels like I do.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I get that.”
Because I do.
Because I know what it feels like to be the thing someone else thinks they can use.
We reach the inner chamber and leave Jamie and Caly there, Jack lingering a moment longer than necessary before turning away.
Sonny jerks his head towards the outer corridor. “Come on. Let’s see what the big scary boss man is planning.”
I don’t argue. Because whatever comes next, I want to hear it from Varek directly.
By the time we make it back to the bowling alley, the initial chaos has settled into something more focused.
Maps are spread across a long table that looks like it’s been dragged in from somewhere else and repurposed about ten times over. Markers—stones, bits of metal, whatever’s at hand—are already placed along key routes, marking entry points, chokezones, fallback positions. Shanae stands over it with a handful of others, issuing instructions in low, precise tones.
Varek is standing slightly apart from the table, arms folded, head tilted just enough that he’s taking in everything at once. The moment I step into the room, his attention shifts—not fully, not enough to disrupt whatever calculations are running through his head—but enough that I feel it.
A check.
A confirmation.
You’re here.
I am.
The bond aligns, not quiet exactly, but… steady.
Kael is at the opposite side of the table, jaw set, gaze steady and hard. There’s a tension in him that wasn’t there before, something personal threading through the strategic. Sonny moves towards him without thinking, not touching, just… there.
“They’re secured,” I say.
