Page 52

I wake to unfamiliar sensations—warm skin against mine, steady breathing beside me, and an arm draped possessively across my waist. For a moment, disorientation grips me. Then memories of the night flood back, bringing a rush of heat to my cheeks.

Trent.

He sleeps peacefully beside me, face softer in unconsciousness than I've ever seen it.

The perpetual Sentinel vigilance temporarily abandoned.

I allow myself a moment to study him—the dark sweep of eyelashes, the stubble shadowing his jaw, the small scar near his temple from a mission gone wrong two years ago.

God, he’s beautiful.

And mine now, in a way I never thought possible.

My enhanced senses pick up activity elsewhere in the outpost—quiet footsteps, the soft hum of equipment, murmured conversations. The real world intruding on our private sanctuary.

Trent stirs, deep instincts alerting him to my wakefulness. His eyes open, instantly alert despite the lingering traces of sleep .

"Morning," he says, voice husky.

"Is it?" I have no idea what time it is in this windowless mountain room.

His mouth curves in a rare, unguarded smile. "Does it matter?"

I return the smile, feeling strangely light despite our precarious situation. "I suppose not."

He pulls me closer, one hand sliding up my bare back to tangle in my hair. The simple touch reignites the fire from last night, my body responding with embarrassing eagerness.

"How long do you think we have before someone comes looking for us?" I ask as his lips find my neck.

"Not long enough," he murmurs against my skin. “It will never be enough with you.”

As if manifested by our conversation, a sharp knock sounds on the door. We freeze, then spring apart.

"Who is it?" I call, already reaching for my discarded clothes.

"Lily," comes the response. "Vex says you need to see something. Both of you. It's important."

Trent and I exchange glances, personal desires instantly shelved in favor of potential mission priorities. Some habits die hard.

"Five minutes," Trent responds, pulling on his pants with quick, economical movements.

We dress in silent synchrony, falling into the familiar patterns of preparation that defined our partnership for years. Yet something has fundamentally changed—an awareness of each other that transcends professional boundaries.

And a strong, sharp yearning to do it again.

As I finish securing my boots, Trent pauses before me, one hand lifting to brush a strand of hair from my face.

"No regrets?" he asks quietly.

I catch his hand, pressing a quick kiss to his palm. "Not a single one. "

His expression softens momentarily before Sentinel focus returns. "Let's see what's so important."

We exit the room together, finding Lily waiting in the corridor. Her silver eyes take us in with that unnerving perceptiveness of hers, a knowing look too mature for her young face.

"Your energy patterns are different," she observes casually. "Harmonized now."

I feel heat creeping up my neck. "What did Vex find?" I ask, ignoring that.

"Unity transmissions," she answers, already leading us toward the command center. "Lots of them."

The outpost's main chamber has transformed overnight. Equipment that was dormant upon our arrival now hums with activity, screens displaying scrolling data and communication intercepts.

Vex stands at the central console, amber eyes fixed on the largest display. He glances up as we enter, his gaze lingering on us with brief assessment before returning to his work.

"About time," he says, though without real heat. "We've got trouble."

"Define trouble," Trent requests, moving immediately to examine the displays.

"Unity's mobilizing," Vex explains, bringing up a tactical map of the surrounding territories. "Not just standard patrols. Full containment protocol across all sectors within three hundred kilometers."

I study the map, stomach tightening at the pattern emerging. "They're establishing a perimeter. Completely surrounding this region."

"Precisely." Vex highlights specific deployment positions. "Heavy personnel concentration, aerial support, and—most concerning—modified operators."

"Modified operators?" I repeat, surprised. "I thought Unity avoided using modifications. "

"They do, officially," Trent confirms, expression grim. "Unofficially, they maintain a specialized division for high-priority operations. Enhanced Division. Strictly classified."

"Like you," Lily says, looking at me. "But different. Wrong."

I turn to her, hearing something significant in her tone. "What do you mean, wrong?"

Her silver eyes swirl with concern. "Their patterns are broken. Fragmented. Like puzzle pieces forced together that don't fit."

"Lin's work," Vex concludes darkly. "Unity must be implementing the research they've gathered, creating their own modified operators using his faction's unstable techniques."

The thought sends a chill through me. "Testing their genetic weapon."

"On their own personnel first," Trent agrees. "Field evaluation before wider deployment."

Lily steps closer to the display, head tilted as she studies the movement patterns. "They're looking for us. For me specifically."

"Why you?" I ask.

"Because I can see their patterns," she explains, as if it should be obvious. "I can detect the flaws in their modifications. That's why they kept me isolated—I could identify which test subjects were destabilizing before their equipment could."

Vex looks impressed despite the grim news. "Useful ability."

"And dangerous to Unity's plans," Trent adds. "If their modified operators are as unstable as Lily suggests, having someone who can detect failure points would be priority intelligence."

I feel pieces slowly clicking into place. "That's why they scheduled priority transport to the research facility. They needed her abilities to stabilize their program. "

"And now they want her back," Vex concludes, eyes returning to the tactical display. "Along with you, Flutterby."

"How long until they locate us?" I ask.

Trent calculates, studying deployment patterns. "Current search grid puts them approximately twenty-four hours from this position, assuming standard sweep protocols."

"We need to move," Vex decides. "Now. Before they complete the perimeter."

"Move where?" Lily asks, voicing the question we're all thinking. "If they're establishing containment across the entire region..."

"We break through," I say simply. "Before the perimeter is fully formed."

Trent studies the map, strategic mind already analyzing options. "Northern sector shows the least concentration of forces. Mountainous terrain makes comprehensive coverage difficult."

"Those same mountains make our escape challenging," Vex counters. "Especially with the patrol craft's limited fuel range."

"We don't use the craft," I suggest. "Too easily tracked. We go on foot, through the mountain passes."

Vex looks skeptical. "With a child?"

"I'm not helpless," Lily objects immediately with a scoff. "My modifications include enhanced endurance."

"It's our best option," Trent decides after further study of the tactical situation. "The mountains provide natural shielding against Unity scanning technology. If we move quickly, we can reach the northern range before their perimeter solidifies."

"And then what?" Vex asks. "Where do we go once we've broken through?"

A loaded silence falls as we consider our limited options. The Old Refuge is compromised, Haven's Edge evacuated. Unity forces hunting us across all known territories .

"The Northern Settlements," Lily says suddenly. "That's where the others are."

We all turn to her.

"What others?" I ask.

"The Haven children who were extracted," she explains. "I can feel them. Their patterns call to mine." She looks at me intently. "You must feel it too."

I start to deny it, then pause, focusing inward. Since Lily's rescue, I've experienced a strange awareness at the edge of my consciousness—something calling, tugging, like a compass needle seeking north.

"I do feel something," I admit. "But it's faint. Indistinct."

"Because your patterns are different," she explains. "Mine are designed for perception, yours for adaptation. But the underlying architecture is the same—my mother worked with yours on the base coding."

I blink in surprise. "Your mother?"

"Dr. Reeves," she confirms. "She and Dr. Thorne were research partners at Haven before the purge."

Another piece of my fragmented history falls into place. I turn to Trent. "Did you know this?"

He shakes his head. "My briefing on the Haven children included only basic recognition parameters, not specific relationships between the researchers."

"The Northern Settlements are real, though," Vex interjects, bringing us back to the immediate issue. "A collection of isolated outposts beyond Unity's standard patrol range. Harsh climate, difficult terrain."

"And well-defended," Trent adds. "I participated in two reconnaissance missions to the region during my Sentinel career. Unity considers it low-priority due to the environmental challenges, but intelligence suggested significant Splinter presence."

"Perfect hiding place for fugitive Haven children," I conclude .

Vex returns to the tactical display, calculating routes. "Approximately three hundred kilometers through mountain terrain. Five days on foot, assuming no complications."

"We need supplies," Trent says, already making mental inventory. "Cold-weather gear especially. The northern ranges experience temperature drops that could challenge even modified physiology."

"The outpost has basic provisions," Vex confirms. "Not ideal for extended mountain travel, but better than nothing."

"How soon can we move out?" I ask.

"Thirty minutes," Vex decides. "Gather everything essential, abandon the rest."

We separate to prepare, the brief respite of the morning giving way to urgent mission requirements. I help Lily collect medical supplies while Trent and Vex gather survival gear and weapons.