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“You should,” he agrees without looking back at us. “I still have some final checks to run before the auction.”

“Don't stay up too late,” I tell Alex. “We need you sharp tomorrow.”

Talon guides me from the kitchen, his arm wrapped protectively around my waist.

“Your place or mine?” Talon asks as we reach his door, his knuckles brushing mine.

“Can we stay here?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says, stepping aside to open the door. “This is your space now, too.”

He closes the door behind us, shutting out everything else.

I slide onto the bed, still bare beneath his shirt, and he joins me, an arm curling around my waist like it belongs there.

“Get some rest,” he says as he pulls me close, his breath warm against my neck.

I press against his chest, letting the silence settle. His fingers trace lazy circles against my hip, grounding me.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, my body stops bracing for the next hit.

VESPER

The timeron Alex's laptop counts down ruthlessly, each second tightening the coil of tension in my chest. Auction begins in four minutes and thirty-seven seconds. We're gathered in his room, the glow of multiple screens casting an eerie light across our faces. Alex sits at the helm, fingers flying over keys as he patches the final layers of security into place. The rest of us crowd around him.

“Your room is so…boring,” Talon remarks.

“And that’s why I don’t let any of you in here,” Alex mutters under his breath.

“Except for Vesper,” Talon fires back at him. A rosy flush blooms on my cheeks at his observation. If the others only knew where I was a few days ago, perched on my knees under this very desk.

“Four minutes,” Z mutters, pacing the limited space like a caged animal. His agitation is palpable. “Our connection better hold.”

“It will,” Alex says tersely, his focus absolute. “This should be the easy part.”

“Should be,” Oscar echoes, resting against the edge of the desk. He crosses his arms, his attention fixed intently on Alex's screens. “We can't afford any surprises.”

“One way or another, we're getting your brother back.” Alex promises, glancing at me briefly before returning to the screens.

“Three minutes,” Talon announces, pushing off from the wall to move closer. “Run me through it one more time.”

Alex sighs but complies. “We enter through the secure tunnel I've created. Our identity will show as Charles Blackwood—Talon's auction alias. We'll be bidding on Lot 27, the 'rare male specimen.' Once we secure the winning bid, I'll initiate the payment protocol with the embedded virus.”

“And if the virus doesn't take?” Oscar asks, his voice carefully neutral.

“Then we track the sample pickup,” Z finishes, stopping his pacing to stand beside me. His presence is warm, solid. “We follow the trail physically.”

“Exactly,” Alex nods, typing a final string of code before leaning back. “Both approaches should lead us to the location.'“

The clinical way he says it makes my stomach turn, but I understand the necessity. We have to think of this as a mission, not let our emotions overwhelm us. Not yet.

“Two minutes.”

Oscar's fingers interlace with mine in silent support. His thumb traces small circles on my palm, a gesture so subtle yet so comforting that I find myself leaning into his touch.

“One minute,” Talon announces.

The air in the room feels electric, charged with anticipation. I struggle to control my breathing. This could be it—the moment that changes everything, that leads us to Luca. Or it could be another dead end, another cruel joke from The Collector.