Page 83 of Broken Forced Mate

Sage Willow returns to check on my psychic enhancement. “How are you feeling?”

“Stable. The hollow sensation is still there, but manageable.”

“Good. The enhancement should hold through several hours of moderate use, or one major exertion.”

“Define major exertion.”

“Anything that would normally cause unconsciousness or permanent damage. The buffering will absorb most of the impact, but there are limits.”

As dawn approaches, the different allied groups settle into final positions. The coordination problems haven’t disappeared, but everyone understands their role well enough to function.

“Final equipment check,” I announce over the radio.

“Pack units ready.”

“Llewelyn forces in position.”

“Witch covens prepared for magical support.”

“Healing teams standing by.”

The responses come from different communication networks, reflecting how each group maintains its own command structure. Chaotic, but workable.

Wyn approaches my position, carrying additional ammunition and what looks like medical supplies.

“Last-minute preparations?” I ask.

“Making sure we’re ready for anything.”

He settles beside me on the small rise we’ve chosen as our bait position. The spot offers good visibility in multiple directions while providing clear escape routes if things go wrong.

“Any regrets about the plan?” he asks.

“About using myself as bait? No. About dragging you into danger with me? Maybe.”

“I chose this,” he reminds me. “Nobody forced me to be here.”

“Your protective instincts forced you. If I hadn’t been so stubborn about doing this alone—”

“Then you’d be facing this without backup, which would be worse.”

He’s probably right, but that doesn’t make me feel better about the risks we’re both taking.

“Do you think the marriage thing is working?” I ask, surprising myself with the question.

“What do you mean?”

“The forced partnership. Learning to trust each other. Becoming something more than political convenience.”

Wyn is quiet for several minutes, considering his answer carefully. “I think we’re figuring out how to be partners despite the circumstances, not because of them.”

“Is that enough?”

“For now? Yes. For the future? Ask me when we survive this.”

His honesty is both comforting and terrifying. We’re building something real, but it’s fragile and untested under normal circumstances.

“What happens after this?” I ask. “Assuming we survive.”