“And Slayer,” she added as the second man stepped forward.
He smiled faintly, the kind of smile that didn’t reach the eyes.“Still breathing.That’s usually a good sign.”
Six others remained outside, forming a silent perimeter without instruction.They spread naturally, instinctively, creating overlapping lines of sight.No introductions.No posturing.Professionals who understood that the job wasn’t about being seen.
They would stay.
Protect Mara.Protect Eliza.
Kol felt the weight of that settle into him—not as doubt, but as responsibility redistributed.It mattered that she would be guarded by people who knew what they were doing.It mattered that he could leave knowing she wouldn’t be alone.
Elias issued final orders in a voice that carried without rising.Assignments.Timelines.Fallback contingencies layered three deep.No one questioned him.No one needed clarification.
It wasn’t until they were moving—gear lifted, teams splitting toward their assigned birds—that Elias finally turned to the two men who had brought the helicopters in.
“Covenant,” he said, gesturing once toward Kol and the others.“This is Cypher.”He tipped his chin toward the first pilot.“And Nitro.They’ll be our pilots this evening.”
Cypher lifted two fingers in a brief, economical acknowledgment.No smile.No introduction beyond the name.His attention was already drifting back toward the aircraft, as if the machine mattered more than the men it carried.
Nitro gave a single nod, heavier, slower.“We’ll get you there,” he said.It was the only thing he offered.
That was it.
No handshakes.No backstory.No attempt at familiarity.
Kol clocked it instantly—the way neither man lingered, the way they didn’t wait to be assessed.They weren’t here to integrate.They were here to execute.
Elias didn’t add anything else.He didn’t need to.The introduction wasn’t about trust.
It was about capability.
Kol moved through his own checks automatically, muscle memory carrying him through tasks his mind had done a thousand times before.Lock.Load.Secure.Recheck.His focus narrowed, sharpened.
Except for one thing.
Eliza stood a few steps away, arms wrapped around herself—not afraid, he realized.Braced.Like someone who understood the cost of what was coming and had chosen to stay upright anyway.
He crossed to her, blocking the wind without meaning to.Her hair lifted around her face, wind tugging at loose strands.
“I need to know something,” he said quietly, keeping his voice low enough that it belonged only to them.“Will you be able to sleep,lvitsa?”
She looked up at him, eyes steady, unflinching.“Not until you’re back.”
Something inside him tightened at that—not guilt, not fear.Purpose.
“There’s more,” she added, after a beat.Her voice softened, but it didn’t waver.“When you are back ...I want more.Us.Whatever that looks like.I don’t want to wait anymore.”
The honesty of it hit him harder than any plea ever could have.
He lifted her hand and pressed his lips briefly to her knuckles, grounding himself in the contact.“Whatever you want,” he said, and meant every word.“Whatever you choose, I’m ready for.”
The rotors began to spin up again, wind whipping around them, urgency closing in.Time compressing the way it always did at the edge of action.
Kol released her reluctantly and stepped back toward the aircraft.He didn’t look away until he had to.As he climbed aboard, he glanced once more at the house—at the woman standing there, shoulders squared, eyes on him, no longer broken, no longer alone.
This wasn’t just a mission anymore.
It was a reckoning.
