Page 39 of Dagger

Utter silence. Then Flash, straight-faced, not missing a damn beat, said, “Dagger ran into a door. It was tragic, really.”

Dagger muttered under his breath, “A whole damn stampede of doors.”

Tex sighed, lifting a brow at Bondo. “Let me guess, you were letting team dynamics run its course?”

Bondo, straight-faced as ever, growled, “Yeah, LT. Ah, that’s it. Team dynamics.”

Flash grinned. “Textbook execution, really.”

Tex just stared at them. Then, without another word, turned on his heel and walked out. The second the door shut behind him, the team lost it.

Easy nearly doubled over laughing, wheezing out, “Textbook execution….”

Shark grinned, shaking his head. “We’re gonna be feeling this for days.”

Brawler just smirked, rubbing his knuckles. “Worth it.”

Dagger, exhaling, finally looked at him. “Next time, just say you wanna hug.”

Brawler snorted. “Next time, don’t be a jackass.”

Easy laughed harder now. “Next time, Tex is gonna put us all through log PT until we throw up.”

Twister, groaned. “Yeah. Yeah, that tracks, now line up and I’ll fix you idiots up.”

Brawler grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, cracked it open, and grinned.

Hell of a morning.

It wasn’t even 0800 yet.

She stood in flame.

Not burning. Not hurting.

Burning with purpose.

Fire curled around her skin like silk, warm, alive, a living ember beneath her skin. It didn't consume her, it crowned her, gilded her in gold and heat and wild defiance. She stood bare in the blaze, unashamed, reborn from ash and agony, her body glowing with renewed strength.

She looked down at her hands, no scars, no tremble, only power and light. The fire within her had stopped being rage. It was her now. Whole. Fierce.

A shift in the air.

Water moved toward her.

At first, a ripple. Then a surge.

She turned, and he was there.

Dagger.

Not in uniform. Not armed. Just elemental.

The embodiment of tide and shadow and stillness before the storm. Water clung to his skin, his chest slick and bare, droplets sliding down every ridge of muscle. He stepped toward her, the steam rising where the fire of her skin met the moisture of his presence.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

His eyes burned hotter than the flames ever had.

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