The agent stares at him.
Long.
Hard.
Then—
“Fine,” he says.
Again.
Too easy.
Still don’t trust it.
Not even a little.
We move.
Fast.
Controlled.
Purpose in every step.
The Tavern door opens—
Cool air rushes in.
The town is still watching.
Still hiding.
Still pretending they’re not involved.
But this?
This is happening whether they like it or not.
Havoc’s hand brushes mine as we step outside.
Not an accident.
Not casual.
Intentional.
Grounding.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs.
My breath catches.
Because he means it.
Because he always means it.
Because no matter how dangerous this gets—