Court of Aether and Shadows (Crowned Monster Trilogy #1)

9. Primitive Instincts Of Destiny

Primitive Instincts Of Destiny

~SPARROW~

T he air in the briefing room felt thick with anticipation as I slipped into the last available seat.

My heart was already racing, a combination of adrenaline from our aborted conversation earlier and the palpable tension radiating from everyone present.

Vincent stood at the head of the table, his usually impassive face etched with lines of worry that sent a chill down my spine. That’s simply because Vincent never shows signs of weakness — worry is for simpletons as he’d always emphasize — yet there he stood, unable to hide the uncertainty and troubled lines along his aged face.

I came to realize it wasn't Vincent who commanded the room's attention.

Standing beside him was a man I'd never seen before, though his bearing left no doubt as to his importance.

Tall and lean, with silver hair cropped close to his skull, he exuded an aura of authority that made even Vincent seem diminished in comparison.

There was something in his steel-gray eyes that spoke of battles fought and horrors witnessed, a weight of responsibility that seemed almost palpable.

This is the first time any of us have witnessed this man…

That wasn’t good.

The Underground had become successful with how tight-knit everyone was with one another. Sure, most of us were here, attempting to survive the brutal streets by doing crazy life-threatening missions that paid extraordinarily well, but we tried to ensure we knew who came in and out of this place.

It was like an undisclosed duty for all of us, and it had been maintained long before I showed up.

So why is it being disturbed now?

"This is Commander Reeves," Vincent introduced, his voice tight with an emotion I couldn't quite place. Was it respect? Fear? "He's here directly from headquarters with a mission of utmost importance."

Headquarters?

What Headquarters?

I must not have been the only confused one, as many of my fellow comrades looked at each other, attempting to grasp this newfound situation.

“Since when did we have a Headquarters?” I overhear Marco huff.

“Who fucking knows,” someone speaks back, trying to keep their voice low. “But I don’t like the vibes of that dude. Smells like trouble and looks like a snitch who’d ensure we all go down at once.”

A few quickly bob their heads in agreement, looking at this man with scrutinizing eyes.

I silently agreed with them and only wondered what he was going to tell us.

Commander Reeves nodded curtly, his penetrating gaze sweeping the room. He must have been in the military for plenty of recognizable years with how his aura projects such resilience. A segreant ready to get us up and running to our stations.

When his eyes landed on me, I felt a jolt of...something.

Recognition? Curiosity?

There was an intensity to his scrutiny that made me want to squirm in my seat. All I could tell was that my instincts didn’t like this man one bit.

Before I could analyze it further, he began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, what I'm about to share with you is classified at the highest levels," he said, his voice a low rumble that demanded attention. "This comes straight from the White House. We have a hostage situation that's been ongoing for years, and it's time to put an end to it."

The White House?

Now this was becoming a bit sketchy because why would the White House know about the Underground and be “fine” with our existence? We worked with the mafia. With some of the biggest and most lethal gang members and crime orchestrators. We were the ones you called to get rid of ABCD before dawn, knowing you had an hour left to complete such a mission.

If the White House knew of our existence, did it mean they supported us in assisting the world of violence and crime?

Heck, were they promoting it?

In a way, I wasn’t too surprised if they were.

No one could deny how profitable it was to promote the families of drug lords and generations of mafia allegiances. I’m sure whenever there was a successful execution, these individuals of power in the Black Market generously gave to the government as a tip.

A little hush money to keep the FBI and CIA off their trails.

Absolutely disgusting, especially with how the increase of child trafficking and kidnapping, in general, have shot up these last few years, but whatever secretly benefited the government, they would continue to encourage without bringing attention to themselves.

“You’re joking, right?” Someone speaks up. “You’re telling me you’re from the big White House. Those preppy fuckers who can barely keep the president safe?”

Another person huffs in dismay.

“Guess we’re all going to jail tonight if you’re here.”

“Silence!” Vincent snaps and gives us all dagger glares. “This is a special request and again, classified. No one else is aware of our existence or interference in the mission that’s going to be intercepted by OUR unit. The Underground was established to aid anyone who requested and paid our hefty price. Whether that’s the greater drug lord of our town or the very President of the United States!”

He scans the room, forcing us to remain silent with his strict declaration.

“Think of this as a special privilege!” Vincent blares roughly. “I’ll be personally assessing everyone’s performance on this. Y’all waiting to pay off your debts or get those promotional opportunities for a big ass suite in this joint, pay fucking attention!”

That seems to wipe away any amusement of doubt on everyone’s faces. The potential of getting some sort of promotion would be nice. Maybe I’d upgrade from the confined cot of a bedroom into something with a bit more square footage.

Or maybe give me my freedom so I can find a way to those lands of spacious intricacy and delightful architecture.

How I missed my dreams now.

Commander Reeves tapped a button on a remote, and images began to flash across the screen behind him.

Young women, all between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five; faces with a blend of hope and fear. Each photo felt like a punch to the gut, a reminder of the very real lives at stake.

"These are our targets," Reeves continued, his voice softening almost imperceptibly. The way he says that has my stomach sinking with a feeling of dread. Targets. I hope he doesn’t mean we’re supposed to hurt them. "All reported missing from mental health institutions and hospitals shortly after their admissions. We believe they're being held by a group that's evaded capture for far too long."

Mental institutions…

Shivers race through me as the commentary Elenore had stated about the females losing their minds and being thrown into mental institutions after they start seeing visions of another world leaves me queasy.

I felt Liam stiffen beside me, his hand clenching into a fist under the table. I bet he’s even more worried, especially after I’ve told him about my confusing circumstances.

Could he be afraid that I’ll be the next target?

The tension rolling off him in waves is almost suffocating.

I wanted to reach out, to offer some comfort, but the intensity of his reaction kept me rooted in place. It probably would look rather unprofessional with how tense the atmosphere was as well.

Already had enough of our comrades thinking we’re fucking or in some sort of on-off relationship. Didn’t need to add gasoline to that can of fire, but I hated feeling helpless in comforting my best friend.

What was it about this mission that had him so on edge? Maybe he knows more? Doing research about these instances and now this Commander has revealed the truth.

"Sir," Liam said, his voice tight with barely contained emotion as he further raised his hand to gather the room’s attention, "if this is a female-focused operation, perhaps it would be best if Sparrow sat this one out.”

Wait…what?

I’m too stunned to speak, realizing Liam is vouching for me to stay behind. Never in my life had he publicly spoken against the idea of me being in such risky situations.

Why now? No way am I that important to be left behind.

“She's too val-" Liam continues, but I can’t help but cut him off.

"Absolutely not," I cut in, anger flaring hot in my chest. How dare he try to sideline me? I care about Liam more than I’d like to admit, but he of all people knows how seriously I take this gig we dare call our “jobs”. This was the life I chose versus being on the streets, selling myself in hopes of a dollar. Now that things were getting risky, I wasn’t going to back down like some weak kneed fool. "I'm one of the best you've got, especially in a rescue mission. You need a strong enough sniper on this mission, just in case things get ugly and you need the main leaders to be taken care of promptly."

No one here could deny that out of the entire Underground Sniper Unit, I was the best one. Perfect aim, Perfect Score, and not one failed shot when it came to hitting my target during a mission.

I wasn’t going to fuck up that record now.

And my overprotective best friend wasn’t going to stop me.

I met Liam's gaze, challenging him to argue further.

He knew if he tried, it would be a failed mission, but I could tell there was a hint of revolt spurring in his pupils. The concern in his eyes was evident, but there was something else there too – a fear that seemed to go beyond the usual worries of a dangerous mission.

Does he know something? Why does it seem like everyone seems to know shit but me?

Vincent nodded, a rare look of approval crossing his features as he stepped forward so all eyes landed on him.

"Sparrow's right,” he affirms without a hint of doubt. “Her skills, particularly her marksmanship, are crucial for this operation. We need a sniper who can take out key targets without alerting the entire compound. She also knows how to blend herself in any situation. We’ve witnessed it countless times. Enough that many other organizations have yearned for her presence on their infamous team."

To hear his praise is uncalled for, especially when I’ve wished to hear those words for so many years.

Why was he praising me now, in front of everyone? Was this him being genuine, or was there some sort of ulterior motive behind his adoration of my current skill set, past commitments, and obvious popularity?

Liam opened his mouth to argue further, but Commander Reeves held up a hand, silencing him.

"This isn't up for debate. We need every asset we have on deck. This isn’t time to protect your lover, boy.”

A few whistle at the remark, while others chuckle at the Commander’s assumption that I have some sort of romantic connection with Liam.

Personally, that doesn’t matter to me. What intrigues me is the “boy” comment.

Liam isn’t a child. Why call him a boy? It’s the tone used that makes me wonder whether they’re familiar with one another.

”From what I've heard, Sparrow is one of the best. She's in,” Commander Reeves emphasizes as he does another scan of the room. “Any other objections?”

“No, Commander,” multiple individuals speak up to confirm we’re moving on from this unexpected topic. I was pretty confident no one else gave a fuck if I came along or not.

Everyone just wanted a piece of the coin that was going to be attached to this mission. If the White House was involved, this was going to be more than a few million dollars.

Heck, this could be the payday we’ve all been needing to live fruitful lives outside this joint.

I shot Liam a triumphant look, but the worry etched on his face tempered my victory. There was something he wasn't telling me, something beyond his usual protectiveness.

The weight of unspoken words hung heavy between us.

As the briefing continued, detailing the layout of the compound where the hostages were believed to be held, I found my attention divided. Part of me absorbed the critical information — guard rotations, potential entry points, and the timeline for our assault — but another part was hyper-aware of Liam's presence beside me.

His scent seemed different somehow, richer and more enticing than I remembered. The heat radiating from his body was distracting, making it hard to focus on the mission details. It wasn’t as though these qualities were never noticed, but maybe they were so intense now that I was catching onto it.

All of it was hard to explain — tricky to acknowledge in my frazzled mind that was truthfully exhausted from all the research I’ve been doing these past couple of days — but it was obvious something was just weird with everything.

This sudden mission, the Commander and the White House’s involvement, Vincent’s sudden praise, and now Liam’s overprotectiveness with his amazing-smelling self standing behind me like some watchdog ready to bite any male who got close to me.

Okay, maybe if there was another woman present, it could have been different, but it felt like he was being pretty territorial with anyone with more testosterone running in their veins coming three feet from me.

I shook my head, trying to clear all this thinking madness from my mind. This was not the time for... whatever this was. Lives were at stake. Innocent women with mental instabilities, were kidnapped from the safe haven of these institutions and placed in some compound for what exactly?

Thinking about it made me wonder what was the reasoning for gathering a bunch of mentally ill woman in their young adulthood years together in one place.

Were they having some sort of witch coven summoning session? Could be watching too many of those villain horror movies about sacrifices and dark magic.

That couldn’t be the case if the White House was involved.

"One last thing," Commander Reeves said, drawing my focus back to the mission at hand. "The payout for this job is substantial. We're talking billions, not millions.” Fuck. Are they actually serious? “Success here could set you all up for life."

A ripple of excitement went through the room, but it felt hollow to me. Money was always a motivator in our line of work, but faced with the images of those missing women, it seemed almost crass to think about the payout.

Then again, this proved how vital this mission is. Still…it’s not adding up. Kidnapped mentally ill women…why would the government care? They certainly didn’t give a shit when these women were tugged off the streets and thrown into these organizations that we don’t give a damn about.

What benefit does the government get? We’re missing some vital information, but there are no clues given as to what the underlying motive is.

As the briefing wrapped up and we began to file out to prepare, Marco's snide voice cut through the tense atmosphere.

"Aw, is little Liam just worried about his girlfriend?" he sneered, elbowing Liam roughly. "If you're so in love with Sparrow, why don't you just say so? Didn’t think you had the biggest crush on her. Such a ‘boyish’ reaction during such a vital briefing."

There’s that ‘boy’ commentary. Why? Does Marco also have history with Commander Reeves?

I expected Liam to brush off the taunt with his usual cool dismissal, especially knowing Marco was taking advantage of the tense situation to pull at his leg.

Instead, he whirled on Marco, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and slamming him against the wall. The sudden violence was shocking and so out of character for Liam, that it seemed like everyone stilled mid-stride to watch — agape and dumbfounded.

"Say another word," Liam growled, his voice deeper and more menacing than I'd ever heard it, "and I'll rip your throat out."

"Liam!" I gasped, a mixture of shock and something else – something primal that responded to his display of aggression – coursing through me. Whether it was his roughness or just the low growl of his threatening tone that was nagging at me, I immediately stomped over to him, ready to break up this nonsense.

I grabbed his arm, tugging him away from a wide-eyed Marco.

"What's gotten into you?" I hiss while glaring at him, noticing the odd shift in his eyes.

The tinge of gold in his eyes was never there before.

What the…

He shook me off before I could make further commentary; storming out of the room without another word. Everyone seemed to be confused as to what the fuck just happened, but it only took a few seconds and a reminder of the pressing clock ticking against us with this mission to get everyone moving to gather the essentials.

The hurt and confusion I felt quickly gave way to determination, as I hurried after Liam, concern overriding my initial anger at his attempts to sideline me.

"Liam, wait!" I called out the moment I caught sight of him. Catching up to him in the corridor, I grabbed his arm, forcing him to face me. "What's going on with you? You're not acting like yourself."

He turned, and the intensity in his eyes nearly took my breath away. There was something wild there, something primal that sent a shiver down my spine while I instinctively took a few steps back.

It was like looking at a stranger and my best friend all at once.

He noticed immediately, realizing my reaction before cursing under his breath. Closing his eyes and pinching his nose, he took a few deep breaths, letting them out slowly.

"I can't explain it right now," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "But I need you to trust me, Sparrow. This mission... it's more dangerous than you know. Not just because of the hostage situation, but because of who you are. Who we both are."

Okay? That would be helpful if I knew who the fuck I’m supposed to be and what he apparently is? Why does it seem like everyone has been talking in riddles these days?

I stepped closer, drawn by some instinct I couldn't name.

"Then help me understand," I pleaded. "You were about to tell me something earlier, about a prophecy, right? What?—"

My words cut off as I caught a whiff of his scent. It was intoxicating, like nothing I'd ever smelled before, and it set my body ablaze — a warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with the stuffy underground air.

Every nerve ending felt alive, hyper-aware of his proximity. His scent wrapped around me like the warmest blanket — a sense of security and protection thrumming through me despite the situation at hand.

It felt like a mental fuck, while it was very obvious my body was reacting to something.

I didn’t want to acknowledge the way my core tightened with heat while I dared accept the sudden wetness pooling between my legs.

The growing ache of lust and desire fighting to claim what my body craved.

Liam must have sensed the change in me or could he have been reacting to whatever was in the air. His nostrils flared, and a low sound – almost like a growl – rumbled in his chest. The sound sent a jolt of heat straight to my core, followed by the rest of my body. I felt flushed, far too hot, like suddenly we were in the pits of summer, despite it clearly being fall season.

I found myself pressing my thighs together, suddenly hyper-aware of my body's response to him. I dare to even say I was fighting to make a noise of my own, but a tiny part of my mind registered the very obvious fact that I don’t make noises.

At least, unless I’m in bed, spread out wide, and being fucked in my dreams.

"Sparrow," Liam whispers my name, sounding like both a warning and a prayer on his lips. "We can't... not now. The mission?—"

"Y-You’re right," I said, though every fiber of my being was screaming for me to close the distance between us. "You have to be right…with whatever you just said.” God, I don’t even make sense. “But…ugh. This is becoming a bunch of repetitive bullshit!”

Now I was just getting frustrated because it was true. I’ve spoken up, over and over again that I don’t know what’s happening, and it seems whenever I’m about to get an answer to this growing mystery, we get interrupted. It was getting on my nerves, and it was about time Liam understood that.

I put my hands in the air before huffing and crossing them tightly across my chest. Maybe I’m trying desperately to hide how hard my nipples are and the very obvious way they’re poking out of the white V-neck I always wear for meetings like this.

“Can we confront the elephant in the room already, Liam?!” I snarl in a demanding tone. It’s not necessarily rude, but it sure isn’t nice. “Why the fuck do I feel like this? What’s this…” I pause to move my hands between us. “This crazy unexplainable pull between us.”

I let out a huff, trying hard to ignore this need to make a harmonic sound. It was like a nagging urge to do it, which I was fighting hard to prevent.

“Why are you suddenly acting like some predatorial boyfriend who needs to ensure every fucking person with a cock doesn’t get near me? Like you NEVER act out like you did back there. Heck, you never attempted to offer the idea of me not going on a mission. Even when it’s the most dangerous or potentially lethal circumstances being offered. We’ve done scarier shit than rescuing a bunch of women from a random compound in some hidden part of the city. You of all people know that unless I say I can’t do it, I’m always going to be on board,” I lecture him with an accusing finger. “So what the fuck?! Talk to me already, because I’m damn ass tired of being left in the dark like some pitiful bitch waiting for her knight in shining armor to rescue her.”

I lower my finger and further glare his way.

“And you KNOW I’ll never be a damsel in distress. Not yesterday. Not today, and certainly not tomorrow!”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as if to steady himself.

When he opened them again, the wild look was still there but tempered now with something else.

Determination? Resignation?

"There's so much I need to tell you," he said softly, reaching up to cup my face in his hand. The touch sent sparks dancing across my flushed skin, but I was even more perplexed by how he was holding my face. As if he’s desperate to comfort me…like some sort of lost lover. “About…us? What we are in this fucked up society that seems so insignificant in comparison. I’ve strived to protect you from it. Praying destiny wouldn't come knocking so fucking soon.”

I’m not grasping what he means. Sure, I understand the words that are being said, but I can’t find their meaning or how they relate to us. How is the world insignificant in comparison to such a situation? None of it made sense to me.

Despite the uncertainty that’s wrapped in this woven sheet of bewilderment, I’d be lying if I pretended that his hold on me didn’t make me want to melt at his touch. How my heart was pounding so fucking hard that I’m sure even he could hear my drumming turmoil.

“Liam,” I whisper his name while daring to let him see just how puzzled I am with all of this. “If there’s something I need to know before this mission, it’s best we talk about it here and now.” I mean it because something in my gut is screaming. To hear what needs to be spoken with words and not mental wishes and hopes.

I’ve known Liam long enough to accept he’s the type that will keep everything in and regret not saying what he yearned to share after it’s far too late to back pedal. It’s a negative trait — I even dare to say it’s a hindrance in my books — but I’ve learned to accept that Liam is just like that.

There’s nothing wrong with it. We just have to take the initiative to make it easier for everyone to understand his actions are genuine and not ill-mannered.

I knew back there, all he wanted to do was protect me.

I’m sure even now, as he cupped my cheek with his hand that dare carry a hint of trembling fear in those quivering hands, I knew he’d not only shield me from the unpredictable world around us but coach me along the way for support, aware that I never truly experienced such an emotion yet.

“No more secrets,” I practically beg him and dare let myself lean closer to him, our bodies barely touching. If our gaze was intense before, it’s nothing like the brewing energy fighting to ruin us now. His aroma was the strongest I’ve ever smelt, an almost dizzying intensity, and yet made me feel so relaxed in his presence.

So safe…and protected?

“Please, Liam?” My eyes seek his submission, while my hands dare cling to his shirt with the slightest pinch. My heart is pounding so hard, the ringing in my ears almost unbearable as I hold my breath with uncertainty.

For a moment, we stood there, teetering on the edge of something monumental.

Then, with a groan of what sounded like defeat, Liam closed the distance between us — his lips smashing into mine in a desperate kiss that filled the words he couldn't say.

My drawled-out moan echoes against the walls of his mouth as I melt into him. My arms wrapped around his neck as I returned the kiss with equal fervor, the two of us making noises I haven’t heard in a long ass time.

If the aroma around us was strong before, it is vibrant now as a floral scent of midnight lavender and what I dare mix with a tempting hibiscus. It dances with the scents of pine and evergreen, the mix of the forest with a touch of frost.

My insides felt like they were on fire, but the temperature around us chilled as if to compensate for this imbalance of power and lust. All of this felt like some sort of play of balance; a part of me feeling as if I’m right at home, where I belong, while the other ventures into the unknown.

Like pieces of a puzzle I didn't know existed finally clicking into place.

My fingers cling to his shirt, pulling him further against me while he ends up pinning me to the wall behind me. I gasp when he deepens the kiss, all while his leg inches between my legs, kneeing into my pulsing lower region.

I hoped the leather of my pants was thick enough to conceal the scent of my juices that easily cascaded into my lace underwear; the sexual tension had built my arousal, only to be set off into motion by just a kiss.

A dominating, air-consuming kiss that made the world spin.

“Guess Liam is sulking in the corner.” Laughter ignites, forcing us to break apart, but Liam’s hands further grip my arms so I’ll stay completely still. I hold my breath while looking up at him, realizing we’re going to get caught.

Oddly enough, he looked slightly bigger now. Wider even. Yet, he certainly couldn’t be big enough to cover me at this angle.

Liam looks over his shoulder, giving the group down the hall a venomous glare.

“Beat it,” he huffs, making the guys lift their hands like they’re scared of him.

They’re obviously not because they’re laughing in seconds.

“Oh no. Let’s scram before a temper tantrum Liam loses his cool,” one of the guys mocks and looks to his friends. “Marco already pissed him off calling out his crush on Agent Sparrow.”

“Oh, right,” another guy notes. “Even though it was fucking obvious. Man’s been in love with Sparrow for years.”

“Since the moment she entered our little tainted paradise,” a third guy mentioned. “Heck, let’s be real. Every fucker with a cock had a crush on her. She’s fucking hot.”

“Badass with a focused attitude and a mouth like a sailor if you get enough alcohol in her,” another praise.

“Oh yeah! I remember that madness. She beat Vincent in arm wrestling! That ruined his pride!” The bunch starts laughing as they begin walking, seemingly uncaring that they’re talking about me in front of Liam. Meaning, they didn’t see me? “I swear he made the poor girl suffer for months doing drills because he was mad.”

“She’s cool, honestly. We need her on this mission more than anyone. She snipes perfectly. Has a track record of never missing her target, ever.”

“Sparrows are known for their symbolism for freedom, resilience, and hope,” one of the guys admits. “Also heard in dark legends they also symbolize bad luck and death. ”

“Sucks for her targets then,” one concludes with a chuckle.

“Well, clearly Liam ain’t her target ‘cause she keeps missing his obvious love for her.”

Laughter ignites down the hall, fading away as the men are off to do whatever prep is needed for the mission ahead.

Stillness greets us as the silence draws out. When I look up at Liam, I can see the hint of conflict raging in his eyes. Desire warred with duty, secrets with the need for truth.

“Liam?” I squeak his name, hoping no one else hears or potentially sees me. I’m inspecting him, realizing he does look a bit bigger. Wider shoulders? Like he suddenly went to the gym, worked out, and got some pumped muscles as a result. “Did you get bigger?” I have to tilt my head to see if I’m hallucinating.

“No.” He rolls his eyes almost hauntingly, making me pout in annoyance. He grunts in frustration before his lips take mine one more time. I don’t protest against it, feeling less anxious at the idea of us making out here.

Clearly, that group of scouts didn’t see us, so maybe Liam was hiding me perfectly and it just looked like he was sulking in front of a wall. I wasn’t going to take advantage of the angle, because someone could come from the other side.

Like Vincent or Marco or even Commander Reeves.

Didn’t want them to know my business, especially when I didn’t even know what the hell was happening between me and Liam.

Shit…are we a thing now?

It seemed as though everyone knew of some sort of connection we had — or realistically, whatever crush Liam has on me — while I was oblivious like a tree positioned in one direction, blocked from seeing the chaos happening behind its bark branches and earthy green leaves.

"When this mission is over," he said, his voice husky, "I'll tell you everything. About the prophecy…about what we are…what we’re destined to be with each other. I promise."

It disappoints me to wait, and he can see that in my gaze as I peer up at him. It’s why he grips my chin and gives me a toe-curling kiss that has me moaning quietly.

“Sparrow,” he warns in a low growl that sends goosebumps through me. “Those noises will be the death of me,” he grunts and gives me another quick kiss. “I swear, we won’t run from this anymore. We just have to face this mission at hand. I don’t want any more interruptions.”

He’s not the only one. No more interruptions with anything, especially when we get to kiss like this again.

I nodded, trying to ignore the way my body hummed with awareness of his proximity.

“When this is over,” I repeat to emphasize my point. “No more interruptions, no more secrets, no more running away from…whatever this is,” I emphasize the last part so we make it a priority to discuss what our relationship is going to be after this mission.

Are we going to be official and if so, what does that mean with us here in the Underground?

A sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“We’ll talk about everything," he agreed. "I promise.” He lays a final kiss on my lips and very gently presses his forehead against mine. It’s odd to say it feels like such a familiar gesture. Like we’ve done this a thousand times before. Yet, it’s the first he’s done such. “And Sparrow? Whatever happens, know that I-" He cut himself off, shaking his head. "Just... be careful out there. Please."

“You’re overreacting,” I huff, but don’t hesitate to move in to hug him. He engulfs my small frame, hugging me far too tightly. I don’t know what’s going through his mind, but I know he just needs this touch. Craves this moment of intimacy while I reassure him that everything is going to be alright. “This is like any other mission. We go in, get the target, and we’re out.”

I pull away so he can see my confident gaze as I peer up to him.

“Plus, I’m the sniper. Far away from the scene of the crime. Only our team knows where I’ll be stationed, so it’s fine. I’ll be safe from the enemy’s eye.”

He slowly nods, understanding he’s probably overreacting but not saying anything more. Pulling away, he turns around to walk forward, but I notice how he offers his hand.

“Just a little bit,” he mutters and takes a slight peak behind to meet my intrigued gaze. I don’t say anything as a smirk forms on my swollen lips. They’re still tingling from the heated kisses we just experienced.

“A little bit,” I reassure him as I place my hand in his, allowing him to lead the way.

As we made our way to the armory to gear up for the mission, I couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted between us. The air felt charged with potential, with unspoken truths and desires that threatened to overwhelm us both.

Our walk remained just us, and as we made it to the gear room, our hands slipped away as we headed in different directions. I wanted to look back and make sure he was okay, but I knew I couldn’t baby Liam.

He can protect himself. Let him do his thing and make sure you do yours so we get out of this mission in one piece.

As I checked my sniper rifle, running through the familiar motions of preparation, I forced those thoughts of uncertainty to the back of my mind. Whatever was happening between Liam and me, whatever secrets were waiting to be revealed, they would have to wait.

But they would be confronted — finally.

As we loaded into the transport vehicles, I caught Liam's eye one last time.

The look we shared was heavy with promise and trepidation. We were all wearing our black combat gear, the slick and heavy suit only further fitted on me while the guys looked much bulkier because of its layer blend of protection.

“Let’s get moving unit!”

The doors slammed shut, and we were on our way.

To danger, to possible glory, and to a future that seemed more uncertain with every passing moment. As the transport rumbled through the night, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was hurtling towards a destiny larger and more terrifying than anything I could imagine.

All I could do now was hold on tight and trust that whatever awaited me at the end of this mission, I would have the strength to face it head-on.

Just one more mission and I finally get to know a glimpse of the truth.

Who I am? What I am?

Why everything seems to be crumbling…

And maybe if I have some sort of connection to all the madness unraveling.