“Probably. Good thing I was planning to stay in Llewelyn territory after graduation.”
“Were you?” he asks, tilting his head.
“Before all this? Yes. I was going to apply for advanced degrees, maybe work in their diplomatic corps. Seemed like a better option than coming home to fight for scraps of respect.”
“And now?”
“Now I don’t know. Everything’s changed.”
Wyn turns to face me. “What if we survive this war? What if we figure out how to work as actual partners instead of adversaries? Would you consider staying?”
The question I’ve been avoiding since our night together is finally there, right in my face. Would I consider staying married to Wyn, building a life with him, if he could prove we’re more than just political convenience?
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Ask me again when we’re not facing extinction.”
“Fair enough.”
We talk for another hour about smaller things—books we’ve read, places we’ve traveled, memories from beforeeverything became about survival and strategy. Gradually, exhaustion wins over conversation, and I find my eyelids growing heavy.
“We should get some sleep,” Wyn suggests, but he makes no move to get up.
“Probably,” I agree without moving either.
Instead, I let my head fall against his shoulder. He goes stiff for a moment, then relaxes before he wraps an arm around me to hold me closer.
“Raegan?”
“Mmm?”
“Thank you for giving me a chance to explain. I know I don’t deserve it.”
“Maybe not,” I concede against his shirt, “but maybe understanding each other is more important than deserving anything.”
He strokes my hair, gentle and soothing, and I feel myself drifting toward sleep. For the first time since he kidnapped me, I’m not angry about being here. Not happy, exactly, but not angry, either.
Something that might be contentment settles over me as sleep pulls me under. Tomorrow we’ll go back to war planning and survival strategies, but tonight feels like the beginning of something that could eventually become a real partnership.
Maybe even something that could become love, if we’re both brave enough to let it.
Chapter 19 - Wyn
The intelligence report slips from my fingers when I read the first line.
“No.” I push back from the table, and the chair scrapes across the floor. “Absolutely not.”
Raegan looks up from her own stack of documents, pen still in her hand. “You haven’t even heard the full proposal yet.”
“I don’t need to hear it.” I grab the report and look over the details again, hoping I misread something. “Infiltrating a Thornridge command post? Are you out of your mind?”
“It’s the only way to get the intelligence we need. Reeyan’s research shows clear patterns in their communications, but we need real-time access to confirm timing and positions. It’s the only way to find Mordaunt.”
“Then we’ll find another way.”
“There is no other way, Wyn. You know that.”
I do know that. The logical part of my brain understands exactly why this mission makes tactical sense. Raegan’s psychic abilities would allow her to identify deception, read emotional states, and gather intelligence that no conventional operative could access.
But logic means nothing when every instinct I possess screams at the thought of her walking into enemy territory.