Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
nyx
FOUR YEARS AGO
Iwatch him get dressed. God help me. This simple act alone is tempting enough to make me ask for another round.
I need to get a grip. The way he made love to me has left my entire body tingling, electrified from head to toe.
I know I’ll never forget this moment for as long as I live.
And it stirs that urge in me again, the need to tell him that I love him.
God, like I didn’t fight it a hundred times during, biting my lip just to stop myself from uttering those words.
I found myself saying his real name in its place, evoking a wicked and knowing smile every time I did.
Like he could read every thought in my head.
Like he knew what I really wanted to say.
Get it together, Brodie. I chant the mantra in my head as I force myself to steady my trembling hands.
The movements make me struggle to tie the laces of my boots, like every muscle in my body has been worn thin by the experience.
Without a word, Noc reaches out, his large, tatted hands covering mine before he effortlessly finishes the task for me.
It makes me wonder, was he affected by this as much as I was?
Or is he simply better at hiding it? When he stands, the answer is clear.
The soldier is back. The man the rest of the world sees.
His emotions are locked down, as he is already steeling himself for the unknown that lies ahead.
And I understand it, I do. I don’t know how long we’ve been here, caught up in the moment – but reality started to bleed in the minute we broke apart.
He’s about to step into a deadly mission, back to the place of his fathers origin, a place that holds a mixture of bitter love and unforgivable loss.
We lock eyes, but there’s none of our usual amusement.
No playful battle where one of us eventually caves, followed by laughter and tangled limbs until morning.
This time, his features are tense, his eyes carrying a conflict deeper than words can express.
“Noc?” I say softly, reaching my hand out, but he stops me.
My chest tightens. I know he doesn’t mean it.
This mission is weighing on him, and with it, the emotional toll of returning to his father’s homeland.
I tell myself that's it and I try to believe it. He looks like he’s about to say something - something important - but then his pager goes off.
“Fuck,” he mutters, dragging it out to check.
Another pained look. A frustrated hand shoving through his already ruffled hair.
His jaw muscles grinding as he reads the message, then shoves the pager back onto his belt, and it seals away whatever he was about to say.
“The task force has been called to leave earlier than expected - there’s been movement,” he deadpans.
My breath catches, but I force myself to clear my throat.
“Okay… how long do you have?” I fight to keep my voice steady, barely stopping it from breaking.
“Two hours.” Shit. My eyes burn, threatening to well up.
No, Brodie - get a grip. You’re stronger than this.
But something about the last hour, about the love we made, has changed everything.
And now, if I don’t say it - if I don’t tell him - when will I ever be brave enough?
“Lev,” summoning the courage to finally tell him.
But before I can, he’s already there - his lips crash against mine, his grip firm on the back of my head.
My breath falters, and when I squeeze my eyes shut, the first tear slips free.
Then, as quick as he stole my breath, he’s gone.
Pulling away. Turning toward the door. I can’t move, can’t speak.
My mind stalls, my words are strangled at the back of my throat.
His hand grips the handle, yanking the door open.
He steps forward - but stops. His tattooed fingers flex against the wood as hesitation roots him in place.
He looks back at me, and I see it. His emotions are warring again just beneath the surface.
“Be good for me, Malyshka,” he murmurs. The breath I suck in is sharp, filling my chest with broken glass.
This is it. The moment. Damn the timing.
Damn the mission. I need to tell him. But before I can speak - before I can stop him - the door clicks shut.
My whispered ‘I love you’ is lost to an empty room.
Still staring at the space Lev - Noc - occupied, the weight of his absence presses into me.
It was the first time his birth name had left my lips, and it felt too personal not to say it, like something deeper had shifted between us.
For that fleeting moment, our souls had truly connected.
The way he smiled at me when I said it - it was as if I had finally pushed us both over the edge, and he willingly came with me.
A sharp sound jolts me from my thoughts - someone tossing things into the bins behind the outhouse.
I blink, dragging myself back to reality, and head for the door.
Outside, darkness has settled over the base.
God, what time is it? I glance at my watch.
Damn it. I haven’t just been standing here for twenty minutes. It’s been almost an hour.
“Fuck,” I whisper before breaking into a run.
My boots pound against the ground as I sprint back to base, straight for the bunk where I know Lieutenant Graves - the man overseeing the overall mission - is stationed.
I barrel through his office door without warning, and he nearly has a heart attack, jerking back so hard he almost topples out of his chair.
“Jesus heavenly Christ, Voss! You just about sent me to an early grave!” he exclaims, fumbling to steady himself, shoving his keyboard - now halfway across his desk - back into position before gathering up papers and forcing them into the drawer.
“I’m so sorry, sir.” I blurt out, straightening my stance, forcing myself to stand tall.
“May I have permission to speak freely?” He eyes me, still collecting himself, before finally getting his desk back into some kind of order.
“Take a seat, Brodie.” I smile, relieved.
Graves was close with my mother, they had a great working relationship.
That’s why I came here. That’s why I burst through his door without thinking.
Because if anyone might approve my proposal, it’s him.
“Sorry for barging in," I say, settling into the seat. He lets out a low chuckle. "That’s quite alright. I should’ve known it was you. Your mother always liked to make an entrance." His knowing look tells me he already has an idea of why I’m here. He would have heard I wasn’t drafted.
“I assume you already know what I’m about to ask?
” Fixing him with one of my well-known looks, the kind only close friends and family have seen.
My puppy-dog eyes, reserved for getting my way.
He laughs again, low and knowing. "I do. Viper-3 and special ops experience?" He raises a brow. I nod, then glance down at my palms, my fingers twitching with the urge to fidget, until my mother’s voice echoes in my head. If you want something, my darling, you show no fear. And you sure as hell don’t shrink into yourself.
Be brave, always. I straighten my spine, locking eyes with Graves.
Dropping the doe-eyed look and being the soldier I was trained to be.
“I understand I may not be able to attend the mission due to my upcoming leave,” I begin, my voice steady.
“But I’d like to add that postponing it won’t affect my health in any way.
There will be enough soldiers here in the next two weeks that I’d still be able to delay it.
” He lets out a grumbled sound, considering my words, so I press on.
"So, I want to plead my case to at least be a spectator with the surveillance team. I was fully briefed during the training session before the selections were made. But even if my leave keeps me from direct involvement, I need to be there, for the experience. This opportunity is vital to my career progression, sir. You know that.”
He leans back in his chair, fingers drumming against the desk, his gaze fixed on me with a smirk.
I can practically see the gears turning in his head as the minutes drag on.
He’s using the silence, testing me. Waiting for discomfort to make me second-guess myself, to back out with a flippant, 'You know what, forget I asked!
' But I don’t. I thrive in the silence. I give him a sly, lopsided smile.
He sighs, tilting his head from side to side before pulling his cell from one of the locked drawers.
Then, finally, he concedes. “Okay, you can sit in with the surveillance team. Strictly there to observe, of course.”
“Thank you, sir,” I nod, standing swiftly. “I really appreciate the opportunity.”
He chuckles, glancing at his watch. “You best be off. Viper leaves in fifty minutes. I’ll call in and let them know.”
I don’t waste a second. I sprint to my room, yanking my pre-packed bag from my wardrobe.
Always ready for last-minute deployments, just like my dad taught me.
I make my way to the outer field, helicopters wait, their blades already slicing through the air in preparation for departure.
I spot Officer Brady and rush up to him, stopping short just as dust kicks up around us from my speed.
“Ah, Voss.” he says, startled. “Graves just called - how did you manage to get ready so fast? Thought we were going to end up leaving you behind.”
I laugh, breathless but steady. “Always prepared, Brady. You should know that by now.”
I wink, and he shakes his head with a chuckle. “Alright, you’re up with the third unit of Viper-3 for the journey.”
I frown. “Where’s Lev?” I ask, then curse myself.
Why did I say that instead of Noc? “Who?” he’s trailing his finger off the board, and I quickly save myself “Sorry, Nocturne.” He doesn’t seem to question my mistake.
“He’s already left - meeting up with special ops.
” I nod, swallowing my frustration, then head for the helipad.
The rotator blades whip the air, dust kicking up around me as someone inside leans out, offering a hand.
I grab it, hoisting myself up, landing heavily in my seat before buckling in.
“Baby Voss! What are you doing here?” Ashley Trace’s voice exclaims loudly before the doors to the aircraft slide shut with a clang.
Fitting name, right? She’s with the surveillance team - one of the best. An absolute asset to the US military.
I don’t see her often; she’s older, nearly at retirement but has worked in cyber operations since I was a kid.
My mother always said that if you ever needed to find someone, Ashley was the one to call.
“Hey, Ashley!” I grin. “I’m with you, getting to spectate behind the scenes, see how the guys on ground get on.” She smiles at me, but it seems weak. I put it down to nerves since she’s mostly behind the scenes for these missions.
“It’s not often we get your kind in our yard, you stick with me, and we’ll be just fine.” She shoots me a more genuine smile before her gaze focuses back to her laptop, resting on top of its clunky briefcase, already absorbed on the mission ahead.
My own smile is just as genuine as I settle into my seat.
Result - Mom would be damn proud. Even if I’m not in the thick of the action, at least I get to witness it firsthand, be part of the briefing, and have my name included in the mission's breakdown. I’ll even be asked for input during the debrief as part of the training, which brings me one step closer to my goal of reaching a special ops unit, gaining the field experience needed when recruitment comes around.
But selfishly? I’m glad I get to be near Lev.
And that’s what I’m calling him whenever we’re together behind closed doors.
Because the moment I see him once the mission is over, I’m taking my mother’s advice.
No fear. No hesitation. No shrinking into myself.
I’ll tell him that I love him.