And hey—add to your library, okay? A click for Avery is a win for all chaotic queens everywhere.
The scent of pine lingered in the sealed office, subtle and cold.
Avery's back hit the door with a soft thud.
Soren Wolfe loomed above her, one hand braced near her head.
"D-rank to C-rank," he murmured, eyes narrowing. "Instantly. Explain."
He leaned in—close enough that she could count the lashes shadowing his molten-gold gaze.
His breath ghosted over her cheek. It wasn't warm. It was measured. Like a scalpel poised at skin.
Avery's gaze dropped—subtle, precise. His jaw was tight, but not clenched. Shoulders relaxed. No tension in the fingers braced by her head.
This wasn't aggression.
This was assessment.
His right foot shifted forward—heel grounded, toe pointed at her center mass.
Direction of focus. Not threat.
She exhaled, slow and shallow. Calculated.
Still testing. Not striking.
So she smiled.
A playbook response, half instinct, half deflection. Her hands came together in front of her chest like a prayer—innocent posture, practiced precision.
She tilted her face up until her breath brushed his jawline.
"Maybe..." Her voice barely a whisper. "Maybe you're just too handsome, Commander Wolfe. Maybe that's what awakened my potential."
The flicker in his eyes wasn't amusement. It was calculation.
His brow twitched. He exhaled once through his nose.
Suppressed reaction. Mild arousal, quickly contained.
Then the growl of a chuckle—deep, brief, almost reluctant.
"Cute," he said flatly.
His hand rose. Palmed her neck—not rough, not tender. Just... there.
Fingers brushed her pulse.
She didn't flinch. She didn't lean in.
He could feel it—the pulse pounding, too fast, too excited to be fake. But no panic.
Only control.
"Then tell me," he murmured, lips nearly brushing her ear, "exactly how I... 'triggered' that awakening?"
His voice wrapped around her, slow and hot and dangerous.
And for a heartbeat—she almost answered. Almost blurted everything.
[⚠️ WARNING: Psionic Attack!]
[Emergency Defense Protocol: Cortical Spike Triggered]
Pain lanced through her skull like an ice pick.
Avery gasped softly, biting her tongue.
Copper. Adrenaline. Clarity.
She shoved backward, eyes wide, voice cracking in all the right places.
"I don't know anything!" she said, too loud, too fast. "I swear!"
Soren didn't react.
Not visibly.
But when he turned, one gloved hand slammed onto the desk behind him—
CRACK.
A bloom of frost exploded across the solid wood.
His voice, when it came, was deathly quiet.
"The energy that rewrote your body—doesn't belong to this world."
His golden eyes were locked on her. No glow. No movement.
Just stillness, deadly and waiting.
"Speak."
Avery's temples pounded. LUSTRA's alarm still shrieked like a siren in the back of her mind.
She swallowed hard.
If it hadn't triggered that psionic shield… she'd be halfway to confessing everything right now.
System. Rebirth. Even the damn theme song.
But now?
Her lips twitched.
She looked him straight in the eye.
He hadn't stepped forward. His posture was rigid, but—
Feet slightly apart. Balance steady.
But his front foot still pointed at her.
Interest. Not threat.
She inhaled.
Then stepped in.
Just a little.
Close enough that her nose grazed his jaw.
Palms still folded in front of her chest, like a student begging mercy from a deity.
"Then surely," she whispered, "a man of your... caliber knows when to keep secrets."
For a moment, he didn't blink.
Then—his brow flexed. Not surprise.
Computation. Delay.
He was listening.
So she pulled back a step, lowering her shoulders.
"Whether you believe me or not…" she said softly, "I really don't know anything."
She paused.
Added a shimmer to her eyes—just enough to suggest wetness. Not tears. Just weight.
"Yesterday, I was just a nobody. A college student who got thrown out a window."
Her gaze didn't waver.
"I don't know how I awakened. I don't know why my rank jumped."
Beat.
Then her smile bloomed, sly and radiant.
"...Unless, of course—" she said, voice lifting, "you want to recruit me?"
Another step in.
Crossing that unspoken wire every soldier draws around themselves.
"Stick around long enough," she added, "and maybe you'll figure out what's wrong with me."
Soren still hadn't moved.
But his jaw twitched.
That was enough.
She leaned forward, featherlight.
Fingers grazed his palm—like a match brushing a fuse—
Then closed.