Naomi’s Pov

The wind at the docks tasted like rust and river water. Cold enough to sting, loud enough to hide footsteps if someone wanted to get close quietly. Cassian didn’t speak as we moved through the shadows. His pace, his posture, the angle of his head told me everything.

He was on the edge.

Not angry.

Not panicking.

Just wound tight in a way that made the air feel different around him.

I followed closely. Too close, maybe, but I didn’t care. The night felt fragile, the kind of fragile where anything could go wrong if you breathed too hard.

Cassian raised a hand, signaling for silence. We stopped...