Chapter 100
Raine
Bone-deep exhaustion dragged at me, heavy as lead. Every breath made my ribs ache, every blink burned behind my eyes, but I kept my chin high and my pistol steady across my lap.
I wouldn’t say a word. Not when Adam was driving forward with that razor focus in his gray-blue eyes. Not when Hawk smirked like he was itching for another fight. Not when Blade sat silent, knife glinting, or when Russ scribbled notes without missing a beat.
I wasn’t going to be the weak link. Not here. Not ever.
Still, my body screamed for rest. The images of the lab kept flashing behind my eyes—the straps, the machines, the weak pulses under my fingers. Every time I thought about closing my eyes, I saw them all over again.
Adam’s hand brushed mine where it rested on my thigh. Just the faintest touch, but enough to snap me out of the spiral. He didn’t look at me, didn’t take his eyes off the road, but I knew what he was saying: I see you. I know you’re tired. I’ve got you.
A lump rose in my throat. I swallowed it down, forcing steel back into my spine.
“I’m fine,” I whispered.
His lips curved faintly, almost a smile, almost a challenge. “Didn’t ask.”
The others didn’t notice, but the corner of Hawk’s mouth twitched like he’d caught more than he let on.
I leaned back against the seat, staring at the horizon bleeding gold and red ahead of us. Bone tired or not, I wasn’t quitting. Not now, not while people were still strapped down in labs, waiting for us.
The fear was still there, buried deep. But under it burned something sharper.
Resolve.
I turned my head just enough to look at Adam. He felt it, I knew he did, because his jaw flexed, his eyes softening for just a breath before turning back to steel.
Whatever Corpus Christi held, whatever waited for us—
I was ready.