First message
She stood in front of me, stiff-backed, waiting for the order. Good. No hesitation. No weakness. I let my gaze sweep over her — evaluating, not admiring. She was what we had made her to be. A weapon honed to perfection.
“You’ll infiltrate the outer sector tonight,” I said, crisp and efficient. “Primary target is the command post. Eliminate all officers. No survivors.”
Her chin dipped in a sharp nod. Not a question, not a flinch. I felt a flicker of satisfaction — she was ready. She was everything Corin refused to accept.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught my brother shifting, the tight clench of his jaw betraying the weakness he tried so hard to hide. He still looked at her like she was a person. He still thought kindness had a place in a war like this.
Pathetic. Dangerous.
I pinned him with a look — a silent warning he knew better than to ignore — and he swallowed whatever foolish protest had been rising in his throat. Good.