Page 28 of Rescuing Aria
They’ll fit well, in time.
As we’re finishing, the mess hall doors open to admit Ember and Ryn.
Blaze straightens immediately, his attention magnetized to Ember like she’s true north. He still looks at her like she might vanish if he blinks too long.
“Ladies, what brings you to HQ?” he calls, waving them over. “Meet the new guys.”
Ember approaches with confident steps, her once-haunted eyes now bright with purpose. Ryn follows more cautiously, her posture still holding echoes of her trauma despite six months of freedom from Damien Wolfe’s captivity.
“Did they survive Jenny’s welcome party?” Ember slides onto the bench beside Blaze, accepting his arm around her waist as naturally as breathing.
“With flying colors,” Jenny confirms. “Matias Kane, David Rodriguez, meet Ember and Ryn.”
“The candle makers,” Storm says with recognition. “My quarters smelled like a locker room until Jenny gave me one of your eucalyptus things. Life-changing.”
“Glad to help.” Ember laughs, the sound still new enough to draw attention. “We’re actually expanding our men’s line. Forest thinks tactical teams might appreciate scents that don’t make them smell like a flower shop.”
“Sandalwood, leather, gunmetal,” Ryn offers quietly, her eyes briefly scanning the table before dropping to the table—her way of participating without making direct contact. “For focus and grounding.”
Razor’s attention shifts, his careful assessment of Ryn more thorough than mere curiosity. Something in her tentative presence has caught his interest.
“I’d try that.” His voice gentler than I’ve heard it all day. “Hard to find candles that don’t smell like Valentine’s Day threw up.”
A ghost of a smile touches Ryn’s lips before disappearing.
Progress.
“You should come by the shop,” Ember offers. “Friends and family discount for Delta team.”
“It’s doing well then?” Jenny asks. “The business?”
“Better than I expected. We’re connecting with clients who appreciate artisanal work.” Ember beams with the success of her candle-making business. It’s a good look on her.
“She’s being modest,” Blaze interjects proudly. “They’re creating custom lines.”
“We just make candles,” Ember says, but the pride in her voice is unmistakable.
“The crystal designs in the reception area,” Razor says, addressing Ryn directly. “Those are yours? The way you suspend the minerals in the wax… Not many people could do that.”
Ryn looks up, startled at being directly addressed, a flush creeping across her pale cheeks. “Thank you,” she murmurs, the words barely audible.
The mood at the table shifts—just a flicker, barely perceptible, but enough to prick the back of my neck.
Ryn’s talking. Not to us, not to Ember. To Razor.
And she’s not shutting down. No walls. No glassy-eyed retreat.
Just—talking.
“I should get back,” she says softly, already halfway to her feet. “The new crystal wax needs temperature monitoring.”
Ember glances at her watch, catching the cue. “We’ve left Aria alone all morning.”
She leans in, kisses Blaze’s cheek, casual as always. But her eyes linger on Ryn a little longer. Watchful.
Then both girls stand.
“Hey,” Blaze calls after them, brows lifting. “You never said why you’re at HQ.”
