Chapter 7 · The Echo in the Bone

"Stop fighting it, Hera. You're only making the integration itch."

Silas's voice was a low vibration against the back of my neck. He had me pinned against the cold edge of the obsidian console, my wrists locked in magnetic cuffs that hummed with a steady, mocking current. He wasn't just holding me; he was crowding me, his chest nearly touching my shoulder blades, his heat radiating through the thin fabric of my suit.

"Get off me," I spat, twisting my head. I caught a glimpse of his eyes—dark, calculating, and entirely too satisfied. "You don't need to play God every five minutes. Just give me the damn data."

"Data is a reward, not a right," he whispered. His fingers drifted from my neck to the small of my back, a slow, deliberate slide that made my skin prickle. "And right now, you're failing your performance review."

He reached for the tray. On it sat a sliver of iridescent silicon—the new chip. It looked like a piece of a broken mirror, sharp and shimmering.