48. Jonah
Jonah
Y eah.
There she is.
That fire.
That impossible refusal to back down no matter what’s standing in front of her.
Most people in this room are trying to calm her down.
Redirect her.
Contain the explosion before it gets worse.
Not me.
I step away from the ops table before my side can object too loudly.
Bad idea immediately.
Pain slices sharply through the healing wound and I have to lock my knees for half a second before the room steadies again.
Worth it.
I stop directly in front of her.
“You’re not doing this alone.”
Sienna’s eyes flash instantly.
“I just said—”
“And I just overruled you.”
That earns me the full-force glare.
Good.
Means she’s still fighting.
“You do not get to make that call.”
“I do when the alternative gets you killed.”
“I won’t—”
“You don’t know that.”
The words crack harder than I intended.
Silence drops between us.
Heavy.
Raw.
Then quieter—
“You don’t get to leave me behind.”
Everything changes after that.
Not command.
Not tactical positioning.
Truth.
I watch the exact second it hits her.
The anger in her face flickers slightly.
Softens around the edges.
“You’re not even cleared for field work,” she says more quietly now.
“Didn’t ask.”
“You can barely stand.”
I straighten a little despite the pain trying to fold me in half.
“Still standing.”
A breath escapes her.
Frustrated.
Emotional.
Terrified.
“Jonah…”
“Not happening.”
I hold her gaze steadily.
“You go, I go.”
No hesitation.
No compromise.
That line is carved into me now.
She studies me for a long moment.
Like she’s trying to find the place I’ll finally bend.
She won’t.
Because there isn’t one.
And eventually she realizes it too.
“Fine.”
The room stills behind us.
“But you follow my lead.”
I almost laugh.
“I always do.”
She rolls her eyes immediately.
But there’s warmth there now too.
Trust.
Real trust.
Not borrowed.
Not temporary.
Built in blood and fear and fire.
And somehow stronger because of it.