Jace Strickland POV

  We give the man half an hour to simmer in his anger, we turn off the camera and I open the door and walk in.

  I step into the interrogation room, the weight of my next move pressing against my chest. The bomber sits across from me, his wrists cuffed to the table, but he wears his smirk like a badge of honor. He’s waiting for me to say something, to make a mistake, to show weakness.

  The bomber’s smirk falters for just a second before returning, sharper than before. “I’ve seen you on the news before, you protect the aliens. What, are you here to tell me how grateful you are to be working for our new overlords?”

  I don’t sit down right away. Instead, I let out a slow breath, running a hand through my hair like I’m frustrated. Like something has been eating at me. I look to the mirror and camera as if I’m making sure no one is watching. His gaze follows mine when I look towards the camera. He knows that I turned it off.

  Then I drop into the chair across from him and shake my head. “You know what? Maybe you’re right.”

  His smirk flickers, a glint of curiosity flashing in his eyes. “Oh? Finally starting to think for yourself?”

  I scoff, leaning back. “I’ve seen things, man. Things that don’t sit right with me. The way they move, the way they talk—like they’re always five steps ahead of us. Like they’re waiting for something. I’ve been around them long enough to know they aren’t showing us everything.”

  The bomber watches me carefully, his smugness shifting into something more calculating. “And yet, you protect them. Why?”

  I exhale, shaking my head. “Because I don’t have a choice. Not yet. But I see it. I see what’s coming. And I don’t know if I like it.”

  He leans forward slightly, eyes narrowing. “Then maybe you should be asking yourself—who’s really on your side? Because I promise you, when the time comes, they won’t hesitate to turn on you.”

  I keep my expression carefully neutral, but my pulse ticks faster. He’s buying it. Now, I just have to get him to slip.

  “Then tell me,” I say, lowering my voice slightly. “What’s coming? What should I be ready for?”

  The bomber tilts his head, studying me like he’s trying to decide how much he can trust me.

  I watch the bomber carefully as he weighs his next words, suspicion still lingering in his eyes. He doesn’t fully trust me yet, but I can see the shift—he wants to believe that he’s getting through to me. That’s what men like him thrive on.

  I lean forward, lowering my voice just enough to sound like I’m hesitating, like I’m reluctant to even ask. “If the next attack isn’t a warning, what is it? I need to be prepared. You know my position—I have access. If I wanted to, I could make sure the next one succeeds. But I need to know what’s coming.”

  He studies me, his jaw tightening slightly. “You’ll find out soon enough. But I’ll tell you this—there are more of us than you think. People in places you wouldn’t expect. When the time comes, the right ones will stand up. The rest?” He smirks. “They’ll fall in line.”

  I nod slowly, letting that sink in. “And the target?”

  He shakes his head. “Not yet. I need to know I can trust you first. Come back tomorrow. Alone. No cameras, no mirrors, no one listening in. Then maybe we’ll talk.”

  I hold his gaze for a beat longer, then lean back and let out a slow breath. “Fine.”

  Standing up, I push the chair back with a controlled movement and head for the door, keeping my posture neutral, casual—like I’m still deciding where I stand in all of this. When I step out into the hallway, I expect to see Henry waiting with some satisfaction that I got the guy to open up.

  Instead, I’m met with a pair of violet eyes filled with hurt.

  Thriexa Aizih POV

  Jace stops the moment he sees me, his posture shifting slightly, his mask of control flickering for just a second before he hides it again.

  “Thriexa—” he starts, but I hold up a hand.

  I don’t want to hear it. Not right now.

  I turn to Henry, who looks far too guilty for my liking. “You let this happen?” My voice is sharp, but I can’t help it.

  Henry sighs, rubbing his temple. “He needed to gain the bomber’s trust. That man only responds to fear, paranoia, and people who think just like him. If Jace went in there and played neutral, he wouldn’t have gotten a damn thing.”

  I exhale sharply, my jaw clenching. “I understand the logic, Henry, but that doesn’t change what I heard. He said those things so easily—about my people, about me.”

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  Jace steps forward, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “Thriexa, you know I didn’t mean any of it. You know why I had to do it.”

  I meet his gaze, searching for something—reassurance, explanation, anything that would make this sting less. I know what he’s saying is true. I know it was just a tactic, just a game to play with a man who would rather kill than see peace. But logic doesn’t change how it felt.

  “I do know,” I say, my voice quiet now. “But that doesn’t make it easier to hear. Not after—” I stop myself before I finish the sentence. Before I remind both of us that not too long ago, we were tangled in each other’s arms, lost in something raw and real.

  Jace exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I get it. And if I could’ve done it any other way, I would have. But this guy is dangerous, Thriexa. He’s not just a fanatic. He’s part of something bigger, something that’s already moving. If we don’t stop it now—”

  I shake my head. “I know.”

  Silence stretches between us, thick and heavy.

  Then, Jace suddenly steps closer. “Read my intentions.”

  I blink, caught off guard. “What?”

  “Read them,” he insists, his voice steady, eyes unwavering. “You’ll know. You’ll feel that I didn’t mean any of it. That none of those words were real.”

  I hesitate. I don’t like using my abilities on those I trust, but the pain twisting inside me is too raw, too loud to ignore. Slowly, I extend my awareness, letting his energy brush against mine.

  What I sense nearly makes me gasp.

  There is no malice. No deception. Only guilt, frustration, and an overwhelming need for me to believe him. His intentions are true—he despises every word he said in that room. It sickened him to say them. And beneath it all, there is something even deeper, something I’m not ready to name.

  My breath catches. I pull away, my heart pounding.

  Jace searches my face. “Now do you believe me?”

  I swallow, nodding once. “Yes.”

  Tocci finally speaks up, arms crossed. “Well, that was unpleasant. But I have to admit, it worked. The bomber gave us something, even if it wasn’t much. We have a lead.”

  Henry nods. “Which means we don’t stop now. Jace, we’ll follow up tomorrow. But for now, get some rest. You too, Thriexa.”

  I inhale deeply, forcing my emotions back under control. “Fine. But next time, if you’re going to tear me apart to my enemies, I’d like a warning.”

  Jace gives me a small, almost apologetic smirk. “Noted.”

  But I don’t smile back. Because no matter how much I want to believe those words meant nothing, some part of me will always wonder how easily they came to him.

  Jace Strickland POV

  The drive back to the safehouse is silent. Uncomfortably so.

  I grip the steering wheel tighter than necessary, my mind replaying everything that happened at the FBI building. The interrogation. Thriexa’s reaction. The way she looked at me when I walked out of that room, like I had betrayed her. Even after I asked her to read my intentions, even after she knew the truth, I could still feel the sting of her disappointment lingering in the air between us.

  Beside me, Thriexa sits with her arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the window, watching the city lights blur past. In the backseat, Tocci shifts, and out of the corner of my eye, I see them exchange a glance.

  I sigh internally. Of course, they’re talking.

  Mentally.

  I don’t need to be a mind-reader to know that. The small flickers of eye contact, the slight changes in their expressions, the way Tocci’s brows knit together before smoothing out again—it’s all too obvious.

  They’re talking about me.

  I keep my focus on the road, but the longer the silence stretches, the more it grates on me. I don’t care that they’re communicating telepathically—I get it, it’s what they do—but it’s the fact that I’m completely shut out of the conversation. That they get to talk while I’m left stewing in my own head.

  Finally, I let out a breath and mutter, “You two want to clue me in, or should I just keep pretending I don’t notice?”

  Silence. Then, from the backseat, Tocci clears her throat.

  I arch a brow at her reflection in the rearview mirror, and she sighs. “Alright, fine. We were talking.”

  Thriexa doesn’t deny it. She doesn’t even look at me.

  I scoff, shaking my head. “Yeah, figured as much.”

  The tension in the car thickens, and for the first time, I wish one of them would just start an actual conversation. But neither of them do.

  The silence drags on until Thriexa finally speaks, her voice measured but laced with something I can’t quite place. “I understand why you did it. Why you had to say those things. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.”

  I tighten my grip on the wheel, jaw clenched. “I never meant for you to hear any of that. This is part of my job, Thriexa. I’ve pretended to agree with worse men than him.”

  “I know,” she says quietly. “And I know you didn’t mean a word of it. I read your intentions, I felt how much you hated every second of it. But that’s what scares me.”

  That makes me glance over at her, frowning. “What do you mean?”

  She shifts, her hands clasped together in her lap. “The Eova don’t lie, Jace. Not like humans do. We don’t have to. Honesty is better for everyone—deception serves no purpose in our society. But you…” She finally looks at me, and there’s something in her expression, something wary. “You lied so easily. You made him believe you. And if I hadn’t known better, I might have believed it, too.”

  Her words hit harder than I expect. “Thriexa—”

  “I’m not saying you would lie to me,” she interrupts, shaking her head. “But how would I even know? If you wanted to, you could say all the right things, do all the right things, and I wouldn’t be able to tell. Not unless I read your intentions every time we spoke. And that’s…” she trails off, looking back out the window.

  Tocci shifts uncomfortably in the back seat but says nothing.

  I swallow hard, my chest tightening. “You really think I’d lie to you?”

  She doesn’t answer right away, and that hesitation hurts more than I want to admit. Then, finally, she exhales and looks at me again. “I don’t believe you would lie to me, Jace. But the possibility of it scares me. The fact that you could and I wouldn’t know unless I constantly checked? That’s what unsettles me.”

  The way she looked at me, the way she spoke—it unsettled me. I’d never met anyone who saw deception as something so unnatural, something that should never happen. It was different, so different than any human I had ever met.

  I exhaled, keeping my eyes on the road. “Thriexa, you need to understand something. Humans lie. It’s just a fact of life. We lie to avoid consequences, to protect people, to get ahead. Sometimes it’s harmless, sometimes it’s not. But it happens all the time. Humans are self-centered by nature—we do what we have to.”

  She didn’t respond, but I could feel her watching me, waiting.

  I swallowed hard before adding, “But I promise you, I will never lie to you. You don’t have to read my intentions to know that.”