Kelvin had never felt more bitter. The bland gray walls of his temporary quarters pressed down on him like a cell. The food was tasteless—boiled grains and thin broth—but it was still leagues above the scraps thrown at survivors in the outer camp. And for that, he would crawl, kneel, and sell his soul if it meant not being tossed back outside again.
Ezra's words still rang in his ears:
"You have a week. Bring me something solid on her. If not, I'll throw you out myself."
The smirk on Ezra's face when he said it had made Kelvin's blood boil, but he swallowed the rage. He couldn't afford pride. Not now.
That night, he slipped into the shadows, lurking in the quiet hallways until he reached a vantage point near Lexi's quarters. He didn't dare go in; he wasn't foolish. Instead, he waited and watched.
Hours passed. The building's hum of machinery dulled into silence, the night pressing heavy over the compound. Then, the door eased open.
Lexi.
She moved like smoke, quiet and calculated, her eyes flicking down both ends of the corridor before stepping out. Kelvin's pulse quickened. What are you up to? He followed, keeping his distance, careful with every footfall.
She weaved through the facility's paths, taking long, deliberate routes. At first, he thought she was lost. But soon, he realized—it wasn't confusion. She was searching. Her eyes scanned every corner, every door, every vent. She was hunting for something.
Hours seemed to bleed together. The deeper she went, the stranger the silence grew. Guards that should have been patrolling were gone. Tracks, signs, anything suspicious—wiped clean. Kelvin noticed it too. As if someone doesn't want anyone to know what's hidden here.
Finally, Lexi paused. Her gaze caught on something half-hidden in the ground—a metallic outline beneath the dirt and moss. An underground lid. Her heartbeat quickened; Kelvin could almost feel it from where he crouched behind a shadowed wall.
Lexi crouched, brushing her fingers over the edges. Her lips parted in the faintest smirk—finally, a clue. She leaned closer, ready to pry it open—
"Out for a stroll?"
The voice sliced through the stillness.
Lexi froze. Her head turned slowly, her face already slipping into her perfected mask of innocence.
The superior stood there, his figure tall and imposing under the cold moonlight. His frown deepened as his eyes narrowed at her, sharp enough to cut.
"You have a habit of being… where you shouldn't," he said, his tone calm but laced with something darker.
Lexi straightened, dusting off her hands as if she had been caught in nothing more than a casual walk. "Patrolling, sir," she said softly, her expression unreadable. "The corridors were too quiet. I thought I'd lend a hand."
"Patrolling," he repeated, his eyes boring into hers, searching, peeling back the layers. He wanted to see the truth. To strip her bare. But Lexi gave him nothing. No fear. No lies on her tongue. Just that cool, innocent calm.
For a long, tense silence, neither moved. Kelvin, hidden in the dark, held his breath.
Finally, the superior's lips thinned. "That is not your job."
Lexi bowed her head slightly. "Forgive me. I'll return to my quarters."
She turned and walked away, her steps even, her face still serene. But inside, she could feel his eyes burning into her back, searing her like a brand. She knew. She had been labeled—dangerous.
Behind them both, Kelvin pressed himself deeper into the shadows. His mind raced. So… she's digging. Maybe she knows something. Maybe… this could be my chance.
He silently withdrew, unnoticed.
But the image of the underground lid seared itself into both their minds.
—
The amber glow of the lamp bathed the room in warm shadows, the walls lined with polished wood and expensive ornaments that screamed of authority. Nathan leaned back in his leather chair, the stem of a glass of deep red wine turning between his fingers.
His jaw clenched, replaying the scene from earlier—the way Lexi had stood before him without flinching, her face calm, her words measured, her eyes unyielding. Most recruits broke down under his gaze. They begged, they stammered, they crumbled. But not her.
She had stared at him. Unshaken.
A slow, dangerous smirk curled on his lips. "Beautiful, wild little thing," he murmured to himself, lifting the glass to his mouth. The wine burned pleasantly down his throat, but it wasn't enough to quiet the restlessness that had taken root in him.
She was a threat. A mind too sharp, a will too dangerous to bend. If she kept digging, she could unravel what she shouldn't. For that alone, she should have been eliminated. But there was something else. Something that stopped him from giving that order.
Her.
Her piercing eyes had locked on his like daggers. Not pleading, not fearful, but challenging. They had stirred something deep in him—something primal, something he hadn't felt in years.
The desire to own her. To tame her. To crush that fire until it burned for him alone.
He set the glass down with a sharp click against the table, his hand curling into a fist. "Unpredictable," he muttered, pacing toward the far side of the room. "Too unpredictable."
On the wall, a wide screen flickered silently with dozens of camera feeds, each showing the officers and recruits in their assigned quarters. Nathan's eyes scanned them absently—men drinking, women dozing, others writing or staring at the ceiling in exhaustion.
Then his gaze stopped.
Lexi.
She lay still on her bed, her body angled toward the ceiling. Perfectly still. Too still. He tilted his head, studying her through the screen. Did she know? Did she realize the room had eyes in every corner? That she was being watched every second?
His smirk faded into something harder, darker. "You're either playing dumb… or you're two steps ahead of me."
The thought both infuriated and excited him.
He leaned closer to the screen, his reflection overlapping hers. "Don't be too curious, girl," he whispered, his voice low and edged with warning. "Because if you are… even I won't be able to save you."
The wine glass sat forgotten on the table, its crimson contents catching the dim light like spilled blood.