Page 223 of Fractured Allegiance

Even if it kills me.

I push off the doorframe, and head for the kitchen. Elias is waiting, and I know he won’t let me skate by without driving a blade or two against my ribs.

The smell of coffee hits me before I step into the kitchen. Elias sits at the table, mug in hand, posture loose but eyes clear. He looks like a man who hasn’t slept, though I suspect he doesn’t need much to function. He was born for long nights and bloody mornings. Most of the people who thrive in this underworld seem to be.

He doesn’t glance up when I enter. Just sets his mug down with a dull clink. “She’s still asleep?”

I pull out the chair across from him. The wood scrapes against tile, loud in the stillness. “Yeah.”

“Interesting, you mark her up like that, she’s practically covered in your fingerprints, and she still sleeps like nothing happened. Says a lot.”

I grit my teeth. “Careful.”

He smiles, but it’s thin. “What? Did I hit a nerve? Thought you liked being the one doing the hitting.”

I don’t bite. He wants a fight, but I’m not giving him the satisfaction. Instead, I pour myself coffee, black and bitter, and let the hush stretch until he finally leans forward.

He stares at me like he’s still trying to make sense of the whole situation—maybe he can’t, the big, untouchable Elias Voss harboring me, a known bureau agent in one of his properties is something that’s out of my own imagination.

After a while, he says “Truth be told, you’re reckless. And you dragged her into your recklessness.”

I sip the coffee, ignoring the burn down my throat. “I didn’t drag her anywhere. She was already in it. Drazen had her caged long before I showed up.”

“And you swooped in, knight in black armor?” He laughs once. “Don’t sell me that story, Ward. She’s bled for men who swore they’d protect her. Men who swore they weren’t like the rest. You think you’re different?”

I set the mug down hard enough that coffee sloshes over the rim. My hands flatten against the table. “I don’t think. I know. And if you’re asking if I’ll use her for leverage, the answer is no.”

Elias leans back, folding his arms. His expression doesn’t soften. “Then what are you going to do? Because Drazen isn’t going to shrug this off. Dom’s corpse is still warm. The Bureau’s going to start pulling threads, and guess who’s dangling at the end? You. And by extension—her.”

The pause that follows is sharp enough to cut.

“I’ll protect her,” I say finally, voice stripped of anything but steel. “From Drazen. From the Bureau. From you, if I have to.”

Something flickers across his face, but it’s gone too fast to pin down. Amusement, maybe. Disbelief, more likely. He doesn’t argue, though. Just picks up his mug again, sips, and mutters, “You better mean that, because she doesn’t give second chances anymore.”

I don’t answer. I don’t need to. I’ve already made my choice.

The burner phone buzzes on the counter. Elias’s gaze cuts to it, then back to me. He doesn’t say a word, but the judgment in his eyes is loud enough.

I reach for the phone. The vibration rattles against the counter, steady and insistent. Elias doesn’t move, but his stare is more focused, watching every flick of my hand like he’s weighing whether to rip the thing out of my grasp.

Naomi’s voice hits the line before I can even say her name. Clipped. Efficient. Always three steps ahead.

“Ward. Why is Dom off-grid?”

I keep my face blank, my voice even. “What makes you think he is?”

“Because I checked,” she snaps. “His security feed went dead. Drazen’s penthouse had a corrupted loop. And before you insult me by pretending you didn’t know, I’ll ask again: where the hell is Dom?”

Elias’s gaze burns into me, waiting.

I lean back against the counter, let my tone turn cold. “I’m running parallel intel. Drazen had eyes on him. I used the opening.”

Naomi’s pause on the other end stretches long enough to register as doubt. Then: “You’re not invisible anymore. Drazenisn’t the only one asking questions. And Ward—don’t make me regret covering for you.”

The line clicks dead.

I drop the phone onto the counter. Elias chuckles once, no humor in it. “So you’re lying to your own people now.” He shakes his head, takes another sip of coffee. “That won’t end well.”