Chapter 31 · The Forbidden Files

"Get your hands off that console before I break them."

Cain didn't move fast. He didn't have to. He just stepped into my space, chest nearly brushing my shoulder, and clamped his hand around my wrist. Grip like a vice. The cold metal of his Enforcer badge pressed into my skin—a reminder of exactly who owned the room.

I didn't flinch. I leaned back against the terminal, heart hammering, eyes locked on the flickering blue screen. "I'm not breaking anything, Cain. I'm reading. You know, that thing people do with their eyes?"

"You're digging into classified Council archives," he muttered. His voice dropped an octave, vibrating right against my ear. "That’s not reading. That’s a death warrant. For both of us."

He didn't let go. Instead, he shifted, pinning me between the console and his heavy frame. I could smell ozone and expensive tobacco. The heat radiating off him was a sharp contrast to the sterile chill of the archives.

"Then why bring me here?" I challenged. My voice was breathy, but I kept it sharp. "Why let me in if you're so scared of what I'll find?"

Cain’s eyes narrowed. Slate-gray depths scanning my face for a crack.