Naomi’s POV

Morning crept into the safe-house like a reluctant guest.

The rain had stopped, but the air still smelled of metal and smoke. The servers in the next room hummed like restless hearts.

Cassian hadn’t slept; I could tell from the faint stubble shadowing his jaw and the way his shoulders stayed locked even in stillness.

He sat at the desk surrounded by maps and files, every page covered in red ink and circles. His empire was shrinking to the size of a battlefield.

I lingered in the doorway, watching him draw another line across a chart. He didn’t notice me until I spoke.

“You’re tracing ghosts again.”

He...