Page 55 of Broken Sentinel

"Fight through it," he says simply. "Your body knows what to do. Stop resisting."

Stop resisting. The opposite of everything Unity taught me—control, containment, suppression. The opposite of Trent's careful restraint.

I let go.

The pain doesn't diminish, but it transforms. Instead of fighting against it, I surrender to the current, letting it carry me through the transformation. My awareness expands outward, senses sharpening beyond anything I've experienced. I can hear heartbeats in the room, distinct and separate. Can smell fear and concern and something like everyone’s unique smell.

Time stretches, elastic and strange. I have no idea how long the episode lasts—minutes or hours, impossible to tell. When awareness finally returns fully, I'm drenched in sweat, my throat raw from screaming.

"Vital signs stabilizing," Reid says, relief evident. "Temperature dropping."

I blink, vision slowly returning to normal…except it's not quite normal anymore. Everything is sharper, clearer, with subtleties of color I never noticed before. I can see the faint pulse in Trent's neck, the minute dilation of Vex's pupils as he watches me.

"What the hell was that?" My voice sounds stronger now, the strange resonance more pronounced.

"Primary adaptation," Vex answers. "Your body just rewrote its own operating system."

Reid checks the monitors again. "Remarkable. Her neural pathways have completely reconfigured. Sensory processing capacity has at least tripled."

"How do you feel?" Trent asks quietly, his hand still holding mine.

I pull away from his touch, the memory of his deception still raw. "Different." I flex my fingers, noting the strange new awareness of every muscle movement. "Sharper."

"The physical adjustments will continue," Reid warns, "but the worst of the neural reconfiguration appears complete."

I sit up slowly, surprised by how easily my body responds despite the ordeal it just went through. My muscles feel different—more densely packed, more responsive.

"You need rest," Trent says, reaching toward me again.

I flinch away. "Don't."

Something flashes across his face—hurt, quickly masked by Sentinel control. "Zara?—"

"I said don't." The words come out harsher than I intended, but I can't help it. Every time I look at him, I see three years of lies. Three years of him watching me, monitoring me, reporting on me to people I never knew existed.

Vex observes this exchange with calculating eyes. "She needs space to process the changes," he tells Trent. "Emotional stress will only destabilize her further."

"And you're an expert now?" Trent's voice is cold.

"On modifications? Yes." Vex doesn't bother hiding his disdain. "Unlike you, Sentinel."

The tension between them crackles like a physical force. Great. Exactly what I need, two alpha males posturing while my body rearranges itself.

"Both of you, out," Reid orders suddenly. "Zara needs rest, not an audience for whatever this is." He makes a shooing motion. "Out. Medical authority supersedes security concerns."

Surprisingly, both men comply, though neither lookshappy about it. Trent pauses at the door, his eyes finding mine one last time. The naked concern there makes something twist in my chest—the anger can't quite erase three years of partnership, of trust, of whatever grew between us despite Unity's protocols.

Once they're gone, Reid sighs heavily. "I apologize for that. Territorial behavior isn't uncommon around newly transitioned individuals."

"They're not territorial,” I tell her. “They barely know each other and yet they hate each other."

Reid's lips quirk. "If that's what you want to believe." He checks one final reading, then steps back. "You should rest. Your body has undergone significant changes in a compressed timeframe."

"Will there be more episodes like that one?"

"Possibly, though likely less severe. The primary neural reconfiguration is the most traumatic part of the process." He hesitates. "Zara, I know you're angry with Trent. But he protected you at great personal risk for years. Without his intervention, Unity would have discovered your changes months ago."

I turn away. "Did everyone know except me? Was I the only one in the dark about my own life?"

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