The image of Gael’s emotionless face unmistakably softer with this human, sent a surge of anger rushing through him.
He hadn’t thought it possible. Gael had always been untouchable, a creature of cold logic and calculated action.
But this... this was a mistake. It couldn’t be allowed to continue.
“Damn you, Gael,” Bram muttered, eyes narrowing as he scanned the empty station.
His mind spun with the possibilities, each one darker than the last.
If Gael was willing to make such a drastic change, to shift his loyalties, then everything was at risk.
He couldn’t let Gael continue down this path.
As dawn’s light began to bleed into the sky, Bram stepped out of the station, his mind churning.
He needed to report back to Beric. The weight of that responsibility sat heavy on his shoulders. But what exactly was he going to say?
His phone was a cold, lifeless thing in his hand. He stared at it for a moment before reluctantly pressing the call button.
The line clicked, and Beric’s voice slid through like silk over a blade.
“Bram. Do you have Gael?”
Bram’s throat tightened.
His instincts rebelled against the lie forming on his tongue, but something deepe, something like doubt, held him back.
“I need more time,” he said, his voice even, measured.
A pause. He could feel Beric’s displeasure humming through the line like a low vibration.
“More time?” Beric’s voice was smooth, but the edge beneath it was razor-sharp. “I sent you because I trust you, Bram. Gael is… slipping. I need you to correct this.”
Bram swallowed hard. “The area is swarming with Guild hunters. I’ve seen more of them here and in the last town than should be possible. They’re planning something big. If I move too quickly, I risk exposure.”
It wasn’t a lie. The hunters were everywhere, lurking in the shadows.
Their scent was unmistakable, and their eyes seemed to be everywhere, always watching and always waiting.
The Guild was gearing up for something massive, something coordinated.
“I don’t care about the Guild’s games. I want Gael back, now.”
Bram’s jaw tightened, a flicker of anger sparking in his chest. “I understand.”
“Good.” A cold silence hung between them. “Don’t disappoint me, Bram.”
The call ended with a hollow click. Bram lowered the phone, his hand trembling with suppressed rage.
Don’t disappoint me, Bram.
The words cut through him like a blade, sharp and cold. Bram had never failed Beric before.
He'd always done exactly as expected, executing every order with ruthless precision. So why was his loyalty being questioned now?
He couldn’t understand it. It gnawed at him, that feeling of doubt, of suspicion creeping into the one bond he’d always trusted.
Beric had never wavered before, never questioned Bram’s dedication.
