Chapter Thirty-Six
White Ravens
Scar
Inside their training arena, Scar stood behind Gage, reset into the same starting position they’d been practicing for nearly three weeks.
Front-to-back. His chest against Gage’s spine. Close enough he could feel his heat. Close enough to be punished when he thought about anything except angles and timing.
“Twenty days,” Scar growled.
Meridian had designed the simulations to be super hard and complex in a way they couldn’t outperform them.
It was overlayered with moving targets behind civilians. Blind corners that shifted. Audio decoys. Light distortions. Threats that didn’t look like threats until they were already inside their space.
He and Gage were almost perfect now, their coordination seamless.
But Meridian didn’t deal in almost.
Still, Scar was close to losing his damn mind.
Lunch was fifteen minutes, if it could even be called that. It was more like a refueling window.
By the time Meridian let them knock off at midnight, they barely had enough energy to eat dinner before they collapsed into bed in each other’s arms.
If they were lucky, they’d manage four hours of sleep before they were back up at four forty-five a.m. to scarf down a protein-loaded breakfast and back in the facility at five sharp.
They’d been late once, and Meridian had made them pay for it in blood, sweat, and tears. He never raised his voice or showed anger. He just kept adding hours and increasing the work until they learned to never waste his time.
Meridian stood with Grace, Mirage, and Zorion on the floor. Roz was operating in comms with Corvo and Spectre—sometimes it bugged him at how good he was at being Gage’s handler. Their field team lingered at the edges, making notes of how he and Gage moved.
“Back in position,” Meridian said.
Grace stepped in, maneuvering and shifting Gage as if he were a piece on a chessboard. Mirage eased Scar up tight on Gage’s back, teaching him how to shoot around Gage’s frame, the same way he did with his partner.
“Again,” Meridian ordered.
Scar swallowed his irritation. They’d been hitting their targets every damn time. What more did they want? He and Gage were ready. They were going to be magic in the field. He didn’t know how the fuck they couldn’t already see that.
Mirage tapped his wrist, shifting his line of fire by a mere inch.
Scar narrowed his eyes. Seriously!
He wanted to argue that he had it, then Meridian’s glare flicked in his direction, and he decided to keep his mouth shut.
Gage was in front of him, and Scar’s discipline and patience were slipping for a completely different reason.
His partner was dressed in white fatigues again. A tight white T-shirt, silver-rimmed glasses with tech lenses, wrist braces on his forearms, and weapons concealed in various compartments all over his body.
It was turning him on watching Gage move like water as he flowed into each maneuver, hitting every target, adjusting to every change, wielding his cane like a samurai with his katana.
The worst part was when Meridian pulled out Whisper, wrapped Gage’s hand around his, and shifted with him, guiding him through a sequence where they fought as one.
Gage absorbed the lesson instantly, and Scar watched it all while burning inside.
Grace pushed him closer to Gage, unaware of how rock-solid he was.
Gage turned his head slightly, enough that Scar knew he’d been caught.
“I feel you,” Gage whispered against his jaw, which did nothing to help his predicament.
Grace’s low, irritated growl cut through the air like a warning.
“Focus!” Meridian snapped.
Mirage looked just as annoyed. “You will have to leave your personal relationship out of the field, Scar. None of us indulge on missions. Sex and romance is a distraction that’ll get you killed.”
Scar kept his hands and body where he’d been told to keep them.
“Start simulation,” Zorion said.
The room came awake.
Holographic emitters came alive. Audio began next, targets appeared, disappeared, then repositioned.
“Two o’clock,” Roz’s voice came over their comms. “Three hostiles left lane. Civilian in line. Delay.”
Gage moved first.
He rolled his cane, extended it, and checked a threat with the blunt end. Scar brought his gun up and fired five blanks under Gage’s raised arm.
Through the remainder of the simulation, his body gravitated toward Gage’s.
There were moments during the fighting when Scar couldn’t help himself and leaned too close, brushing the edge of Gage’s hood with his mouth as he gave another direction.
Scar was breathing hard. Sweat dampened his shirt under his heavy tactical vest. His body wanted more. Not more work. More Gage.
“Run it again.”
Grace and Mirage repositioned them, giving pointers as though they hadn’t just watched a flawless execution. They slipped his arm under Gage’s, adjusting the lock and angle for the next run.
Scar pushed in, distracted, rubbing his mouth lightly along the back of Gage’s neck.
“Your sweat smells so good,” he murmured.
“Knock it off, dammit!” Meridian smacked him in the back of the head as if he were a sixteen-year-old fuck-up who’d just been caught fucking in the house.
“Ow, shit.”
Gage laughed.
The sound dragged him out of his funk and made him smile before he could stop it.
God, he wanted Gage in the worst way. And in the same breath, he kept thinking about how to do right by him. How not to make him feel like every other piece of ass he’s had because none of them could hold a candle to Gage’s light.
Meridian got in his face.
“If you don’t stop wasting my time, I’m gonna’ send your horny ass on a mission to Antarctica, so I won’t have to deal with this adolescent bullshit anymore once your balls freeze off.”
Scar stared, stunned.
Gage choked on a few sounds that soon turned into raucous laughter he couldn’t control.
Scar tried his best to stay composed and silent, but seconds later, he cracked, folding over Gage’s shoulder, the two of them collapsing against each other.
Mirage’s mouth twitched as he tried to hide his quiet laugh. Zorion let out a snort he disguised as a cough. Valor’s low chuckle rolled out as if he didn’t give a damn if he offended Meridian or not.
Even the field team broke, shoulders shaking, hands covering their mouths as if it were illegal to have fun, in front of such a serious man.
Meridian’s expression didn’t change, his silence sharpening before he growled, “Both of you get the fuck outta my sight.”