Page 231 of Fractured Allegiance

Not Drazen, Elias, and not even Silas.

The others drift into their own corners of the safehouse. Elias retreats to his room to meet Mara, the door clicking shut behind him. I imagine their voices low inside—his gruff,hers tender. For all the steel Elias carries, he bends for her. A terrifying man tempered by one woman’s warm hand.

It unsettles me how much I envy that.

The table is a mess of maps and half-empty mugs. Silas hasn’t moved. He lingers by the blinds, head turned toward the now dark street outside, one hand braced against the frame. His shoulders look carved from granite, every muscle locked tight as if he’s waiting for the city itself to lunge through the window.

The city hums faintly from the distance. It should feel ordinary, safe even. But here, beside him, the air feels volatile.

“Elias thinks you’ll choose the badge over me,” I say quietly.

His expression shifts. “And what do you think?”

I keep my eyes on the street. “I think obsession does make people reckless. I should know. I’ve lived in Elias’s shadow long enough.”

He turns then, his face inches from mine, close enough I can feel the heat radiating from him. His hand hovers like he wants to touch my face, but stops short, curling into a fist instead.

“You’re not Elias,” he says. “You’re not anyone’s shadow. And if he can’t see that, he’s blind.”

Something twists inside me, sharp and disorienting. I can’t answer. My throat’s too tight.

Instead, I step back. “Don’t look at me like that, Silas.”

His mouth curves into something that isn’t a smile but might be the ghost of one. “Can’t help it.”

I retreat to the hallway before I do something stupid. The echo of his gaze follows me all the way down, hot as a brand I can’t scrub off.

I’m halfway to my room when the door across the hall opens, the room Elias entered. Mara steps out, her hair pulled into a loose braid over one shoulder. She looks softer than I’ve ever managed to. Just calm woven into skin.

“Did you even sleep at all?” she asks, her voice pitched low so it doesn’t carry.

I shake my head. “Not with him pacing holes into the floor.”

Her lips tug into a faint smile. “That sounds familiar.”

I know she’s talking about Elias. The way he broods, carries his shadows around like they’re medals. My instinct is to scoff, but the truth is, the comparison hits too close.

Mara steps closer, leaning against the wall opposite me. She doesn’t posture. Doesn’t stare me down like Elias or Silas. She just is. And somehow that’s harder to face.

“I heard the way you defended him,” she says. “Silas.”

I fold my arms. “And?”

“And Elias said the same things once. About me. About how he’d protect me, no matter what it cost him.” Her eyes lift, searching my face. “He meant it. But meaning something and surviving it aren’t the same.”

For a moment, I don’t answer. The words stick in my throat because I want to ask if she regrets it. If she’s afraid, every time Elias leaves the house, that he won’t come back.

But Mara beats me to it.

“You’re not me,” she says softly. “And Silas isn’t Elias. Don’t mistake one shadow for another. If you’re going to stand with him, do it because it’s your choice, not because you’re trapped.”

The sting is subtle, but it lands.

I stare at her, the comeback half-formed, but it fades when I see the way her hand drifts unconsciously to the wall behind her—like she’s steadying herself against the memory of her own storms.

Finally, I nod once. “Choice, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.”

She doesn’t push further. Just gives me the faintest smile, like she’s handing me a warning wrapped in kindness, then slips back into Elias’s room.