Page 29 of Elas

“We are,” I say carefully. There’s no point in lying. Ronan and I have been stationed together for our entire careers. Dozens of officers could attest to our close relationship.

“Did you know he was there, too? Strange, isn’t it? That he would be at the same location right before Bravis was murdered.”

I force another calm inhale. “Murdered, sir? My understanding was the fire killed Bravis.”

Khors stares for a long stretch, his scrutiny nearly unbearable. He’s searching for signs of lying, but he won’t find any. Aside from knowingwhyRonan was at that house, I’m as clueless as everyone else. Over and over, I’ve tried to analyze what might’ve happened—how he was caught and what he did when he was backed into a corner.

Ronan might be a gentle soul at heart, but he’s fiercely protective of the few he loves. If his mate was threatened, all caution would’ve been thrown to the wind.

After a few long seconds of staring, Khors must decide I’m telling the truth. “It appeared that way at first glance, yes, but an examination of the body determined he was stabbed.”

Another mad rush of adrenaline pumps through my veins. “Stabbed, sir?”

“Mmm, straight through the neck. Internal decapitation.”

“That’s awful.”

He nods again as he picks up a glass of amber liquid from his desk, swirling it thoughtfully. The punch of alcohol hits me in the nose and I fight not to gag at the smell. “The officer with him was stabbed as well. Through the heart.” He makes a mindless stabbing motion with his hand as he takes a sip. “Do you know why Ronan was there,Elas?”

“No, sir,” I say, almost too quickly, and he taps his finger on the desktop.

“Hmm,” he grunts. “I suppose that means you don’t know why Commander Bravis followed him there, either?”

“Sir, I don’t have any idea how they ended up in the same location if they weren’t together.”

He waves his hand distractedly. “Ronan used a vehicle from the transport yard. The tracker would’ve told Bravis any information he needed about where Ronan was driving. It’s a shame he discovered it, or else I’d have him in custody already.” My pulse speeds into a rapid thump as I absorb that information.

Of course they are tracking us.

There’s no way the military wouldn’t be keeping tabs on their investments—vehiclesandbodies—and I’m an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

“What I don’t understand,” he continues, swirling his drink again, “is why there was no official report from Bravis about why he was following Ronan.”

“You think he suspected Ronan of something?”

“I’m almost sure of it,” he says with a haughty sniff. The sound tells me no matter how much time has passed, Khors still holds a grudge against Ronan for standing up to him all those years ago. It’s a reminder not to drop my guard around his nice-guy act.

“The problem is, I can’t prove it,” he continues. “But why else would he ask to be alerted any time Ronan checked out a vehicle? Why follow him? Something was going on there, and it feels personal. Otherwise, Bravis would’ve filed the paperwork.”

“What can I do to help, sir?” The words are ash on my tongue, but I know better than to show my hand. With any luck, Khors will be as influenceable as he used to be, and I can force myself into the loop to find out what’s happening. Let him feed me information instead of digging for it myself.

“You would turn against your friend?” he asks, arching a brow and pulling the corner of his lip between his teeth.

“Anyone who betrays our kind is no friend of mine, sir.”

He stands, leaning his palms onto the desk and narrowing his eyes, trying to stare all the way into my soul. “Very well, then. Any special assignments to track Ronan will be yours. But Elas?”

“Yes, sir?”

His lips pull back into a smirk, morphing him into that same cocky young male from a lifetime ago. “Betray me, and I will make sure you pay. You had a certain…aversionto small spaces, if memory serves me correctly.” A mean snort of a laugh huffs from his nose. “Gods, I still remember the way you’d scream.”

My eyes are steady as they meet his, not allowing myself to show him how much the memories affect me. “It is an adequate threat, sir, but unnecessary. I’m yours to command.”

“See that it stays that way.” He walks around the desk and clasps me on the shoulder with a grip so hard it sends a shot of pain down my arm. “I’ll be in touch.”

August

Alonecicadascreamsoutside the window, and part of me wants to run out into the night and screech along with it. I sigh as I sit up and punch the sides of my pillow.

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