That doesn’t surprise me.
“I have skills that are… less visible,” he adds.
I huff a quiet breath. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”
That almost earns a proper reaction. “I will not be easily found,” he says.
I nod slowly, because I believe him. Doesn’t mean I’m not worried.
We both hear the footsteps at the same time—distant but closing in.
Caly’s focus sharpens instantly, his posture shifting in a way that’s subtle but unmistakable. “I need to leave,” he says.
“Yeah,” I reply, already knowing that’s not something I can stop. Then it hits me. “You told anyone?” I ask.
Because if he hasn’t?—
He hesitates for a second, which is enough to tell me he hasn’t.
“Right,” I mutter, dragging a hand over my dreads. “That’s gonna go down great.”
His gaze returns to mine, and for the first time there’s uncertainty there. “Tell them I will return,” he says.
I exhale slowly. “Caly?—”
“I will,” he repeats, more firmly now. “And tell them… I remain committed to this.”
I nod once. “I’ll tell them.”
Another beat passes before he adds, quieter this time, “Tell Jack… that Jamie will be okay.”
That cuts deeper than anything else he’s said.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll tell him.”
He studies me one last time, then inclines his head slightly. “Take care of them,” he says.
“Was planning on it.”
That almost gets a real smile. Then he moves. It’s quick, clean, and final. One second he’s here, the next he’s slipping through the exit path and into the forest beyond, disappearing like he was never part of this place at all.
I stand here for a moment after he’s gone, staring at the space he left behind, the weight of what I now have to pass on settling heavily in my chest. “Fuck,” I mutter, because that conversation’s going to suck.
I turn and head back towards the heart of the settlement, already scanning for Varek—for Jack—knowing neither of them is going to take this lightly.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
There’sa shift in Dathanor that I can’t ignore now that I’ve stepped back into it for the second time today.
It’s not visible in any one place, not something you can point at and name, but it sits under everything like a fault line that hasn’t settled. People are moving, working, rebuilding what was broken, but the rhythm is off. It’s too deliberate. Like every action is being measured against what might come next.
Caly leaving sits heavy in my chest as I move through it. That conversation replays whether I want it to or not. The way he stood there, already gone before he took a single step. How he didn’t tell anyone else. The way he trusted me to carry it.
Yeah. That’s going to go down well.
I scrub a hand over my face, exhaling slowly as I weave through the settlement, stepping around stacked supplies and half-finished repairs. The air still carries that faint metallic tang from yesterday, smoke woven stubbornly into stone and timber like a reminder no one’s trying to scrub out.
