“Exactly,” Luca snapped.“Which is why I know they’re using her to get to me.”
Kol looked back at the darkened screens.“For whatever reason, they wanted you aware of all of this,” he said.
Luca stared at the empty monitor, the words burning behind his eyes.
You’re looking in the wrong direction.
Behind them, somewhere down the hall, a floorboard creaked softly.
Mara was awake.
Luca closed his eyes once.
This was going to hurt.And not in the way a good bloodletting usually did.This was going to leave more than a scar.
****
“What’s going on?”
Mara’s voice cut through the hall before Luca could turn around.
She stood barefoot at the end of it, one hand braced on the doorframe, hair loose and sleep-tousled, wearing one of his shirts like she belonged there.Which, annoyingly, made the knot in his chest tighten instead of ease.
He turned anyway.“Go back to bed.”
The words came out wrong—too sharp, too automatic.
Her brows drew together.“No.”
Mateo and Kol were still in the comm room behind him.He felt their attention without looking, felt the shift when Mara stepped closer instead of retreating.
“Something happened,” she said.“I could tell from the tone in the voices I could hear.Don’t do that thing where you pretend everything’s fine.”
Luca rubbed a hand over his face.“This isn’t for you.”
“That’s bullshit,” she said calmly.“I woke up because you weren’t there,” she said evenly.“You don’t just disappear on me and call it protection.Try again.”
The quiet stretched.Kol cleared his throat once, subtle, and stepped back toward the screens.Mateo followed, the unspoken agreement obvious—this is yours.
Luca turned fully toward Mara.“They pinged your signal.”
Her stomach dropped.“What does that mean?”
“It means someone inside the Covenant wanted us to know they could get to you,” he said.“They didn’t take you.They didn’t touch you.They just ...knocked on the door.”
She took that in, jaw tightening.“And you’re pissed.”
“Understatement,” he practically growled.“I’m fucking furious.”
“I can tell,” she said.“You’re doing that thing where your voice goes flat and your shoulders lock.”
He laughed once, humorless.“You think you know me that well?”
“I do,” she shot back.“And I don’t like being treated like a package with a tracking number.”
That did it.
Luca’s temper snapped—not loud, not explosive, but sharp enough to cut.“You are a target, Mara.”
