Chapter 18 #2
“Is that what you really wanted?” I meet his eyes. “Aurora was bringing him in for sanctuary. The Council voted to grant him protection. I brought him back alive, which is exactly what you intended.”
He pauses. I’ve made a point he can’t easily dismiss.
“You went into those mountains with the explicit intent to execute him,” he says. “What changed?”
“He was wounded. Unarmed. I’m not an executioner.”
“You resigned from Aurora specifically to kill him.”
“In a fair fight. Not a slaughter.” I shake my head, the idea still repulsing me.
Viktor’s expression doesn’t shift. “What happened after the ambush?”
“A storm moved in. We had to find shelter. We stayed in a cave system overnight. The next morning, we headed back to the convoy but were intercepted by Syndicate snipers. We evaded. Made it to Timber Ridge. You extracted us.”
“And the rest?” His eyes are cold. Assessing.
I meet his gaze. “What do you want me to say?”
“The truth. What happened between you and Commander Allon?”
“We survived together.”
“And?” he presses.
“And nothing.”
“Frost.” His voice drops. “I walked in on you seconds from something that wasn’t ‘nothing.’ You’re not objective about him anymore.”
“I can still think clearly. Make rational decisions. I brought him back instead of killing him. That was the right call.”
“You resigned to kill him,” Viktor counters. “You returned with him alive. That’s a complete reversal. And when I arrived, you were—” He stops. Reconsiders. “Your judgment has been affected.”
“My judgment is fine.”
“Is it?” He steps closer. “Because from where I’m standing, you can barely function knowing he’s in a cell below us.”
The accuracy stings. I say nothing.
Viktor’s expression softens slightly. Not much. Just enough that I see something other than the cold interrogator.
He pulls the chair out from my desk. Sits. The shift from standing to seated changes the dynamic—less interrogation, more… conversation.
“I know what Chance meant to you,” he says quietly. “His death became your foundation. Your purpose, your identity, everything. This isn’t judgment, Nadia. It’s concern.”
The shift to gentleness is harder to resist than aggression would be.
“I know it’s complicated,” I say, my voice quieter now. “But the way I see it, the Syndicate wants him dead. That means his intelligence is valuable. More valuable than personal vengeance.”
“That’s sound reasoning,” Viktor acknowledges. “And I agree. But that’s not the only reason you brought him back.”
“Yes it is.”
“No.” His gaze holds mine. “You brought him back because you couldn’t kill him. And you couldn’t kill him because something happened out there. Something you don’t understand and can’t control.”
I want to deny it. Want to argue. But he’s right.
“You’re not the first operative to face this,” Viktor says. “Proximity, survival situations, adrenaline—they create connections that aren’t rational. It happens.”
“That’s not what this is.” Not just that, anyway.
“Then what is it?”
I can’t tell him. Can’t say it’s a mate bond. Can’t explain what my wolf insists.
“I don’t know,” I say instead. Honest. “I just know I can’t explain it.”
Viktor watches me steadily until I find myself wanting to squirm. Then he nods once. Like he’s made a decision.
“There’s always a place for you at Aurora, Nadia,” he says. “That’s what we do. Sanctuary for supernaturals who need it. You resigned, but that doesn’t mean you can’t come back. When you’re ready. If you want to.”
The offer surprises me. I expected consequences. Punishment. Not this.
“Thank you,” I manage.
“But there are conditions.”
Of course there are.
“The Council meets in two days to decide Commander Allon’s fate,” Viktor continues. “Until then—and possibly after—you stay away from him.”
My wolf snarls in protest, and my chest aches like something’s being ripped away. But underneath—underneath there’s something else. A whisper of hope from my rational mind.
Maybe this is good.
“I can handle—”
“Can you?” He leans forward. “You’re too close to this. And I need you to have distance to process what happened before you make decisions that affect your future.”
“I’m not going to do anything stupid.”
“I’m not worried about stupid. I’m worried about you being personally involved when you need to be objective.
” His voice stays level. Factual. “You can’t be involved in the Council’s decision.
For procedure, for fairness to him, and for you.
We don’t have a clear read on Allon yet.
We don’t know his intentions, his reliability, whether he’s a genuine defector or a plant. Until we do, you need to stay away.”
Distance. Time. A test.
My wolf rejects this violently. Raging against the very idea of separation from her mate. But my human side whispers: Maybe this is exactly what you need.
Four or five days. That’s how long the heat cycle lasts. Two days until the Council meets. I’m pretty sure I’m well into the third day already. Maybe further. Time enough for the cycle to end. Time enough to know if these feelings are real or just biology lying to me.
If it’s just the heat cycle, I’ll feel different when it passes.
The pull will lessen. The ache will fade.
I’ll look back and realize this was temporary insanity.
If it’s a mate bond… it won’t matter. The connection will still be there.
The pull will remain. But I’ll cross that bridge if I get to it.
Maybe separation is a gift in disguise.
Viktor’s right. I hate it, but he’s right.
“Two days,” he repeats. “Then the Council decides. Can you manage that?”
Two days. Then I’ll know.
“Yes,” I say. “I can manage that.”
“Good.” He heads for the door. Stops before opening it. “I hope the Council grants sanctuary. The intelligence he’s offering about Vex changes things significantly. And despite the complications, you made the right call bringing him in alive.”
Then he’s gone.
I sink back down on the bed.
Two days.
Forty-eight hours before the Council decides if Jericho lives or dies. Because withdrawing sanctuary would be a death sentence.
And I can’t see him. Can’t talk to him. Can’t even ask if he’s okay.
My wolf presses against my skin. Howling protest. Demanding that I go to him. Demanding that I break through walls and guards and rules to get to him. Her mate, whether I like the idea or not. She knows what she knows, and separation is agony.
But my rational mind murmurs something different.
This is a test.
If the heat cycle fades, as it should, maybe I’ll wake up and wonder what I was thinking. Why I felt so desperate to reach him. Why watching them take him felt like loss.
Maybe distance will clear my head. Let me separate what’s real from what’s just my body reacting to impossible circumstances.
My wolf rejects this with every fiber of her being. Snarling fury. She doesn’t want this test. She already has her answer. Mate. Clear. Undeniable.
But I need more than instinct.
I need to know if I choose this. If my human heart wants him, or if it’s just my wolf making decisions for me.