Naomi’s Pov;

The days after the rescue felt unreal, like waking up inside someone else’s dream.

The safe-house was quiet, almost too quiet. Every sound seemed magnified, the hum of the generator, the shuffle of guards outside, the faint clink of dishes from the kitchen below.

My body healed faster than my mind. Bruises faded, cuts closed, but my thoughts kept looping back to the cell, to the scent of iron and smoke, to the sound of Cassian’s voice cutting through the chaos.

He hadn’t left my side for the first two nights. He’d sat in the chair beside my cot, half asleep, half awake, his pistol resting on the...