Page 238 of Scarlet Wars
A slow smile tugged at my mouth. “You and me against the world, Nightcrawler.”
Then I kissed her again, pouring a year’s worth of love and fear and aching need into that single moment, everything I still hadn’t said finding its way into her mouth.
She nodded once. “Then let’s show the fucking world what that means.”
EMMA
Before we could declare open hunting season on the Collabs—which I wasachingto do—we had another battle to prepare for.
When we informed Rachel—the day after our decision to go public—of the details of my deal with the United Chiefs, every threat, every demand, every unspokenor else, her fury ignited faster than I could finish the sentence.
She didn’t argue.
She didn’t ask for clarification.
She turned on her heel and called the entire team into the War Room without a single second of hesitation.
The doors slammed shut behind us, the sound echoing like a warning shot.
Rachel didn’t sit, but stood at the head of the table, hands braced against the surface like she was holding herself back from flipping it over. When she spoke, it was steady, but there was fire under it.
“You might think this ends with Emma,” she said, cutting her gaze across the room, “but it doesn’t. The moment we let them believe they can make an example of one of us, they’ll do exactly that, and the rest will fall in line.”
Her stare moved from face to face, daring anyone to look away. “This is how it always starts. One false arrest. One forced bond. Onenecessary sacrifice for the greater good.And every time someone tells themselves,This isn’t my fight,the line doesn’t disappear.”
She straightened, shoulders locking into place. “It moves closer.”
“Let me be absolutely clear,” she continued. “When you stand by and do nothing while someone else is turned into a victim, you are not neutral—you are complicit. All it takes for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing. And the moment you do nothing, you are no longer safe. You’re just next.”
The room fell utterly silent.
“The United Chiefs don’t rule because they’re right, they rule because people are afraid. Afraid to speak. Afraid to resist. Afraid that if they keep their heads down long enough, the blade will pass them by.”
Her expression hardened. “It won’t.”
Rachel lifted her chin. “So. Here’s the choice. You either stand with us—against those who thrive on control and call it order—or you hide behind comfortable ignorance and watch yourselves become the next ones they decide to ‘manage.’”
She let that settle.
“I won’t kneel,” she added quietly. “I won’t hand one of ours over to people who think power gives them the right to break others. And I sure as hell won’t pretend this isn’t happening.”
One by one, the team straightened. Nods followed. Murmurs of agreement. Resolve hardening into something dangerous.
Someone said, “I’m in.”
Another: “Me too.”
By the time Rachel looked back at me, the decision was unanimous, and I realized, my relationship with Caden might’ve been the spark for open war, but it wasn’t about us anymore.
Every Kanata C Offensive was now primed to fight the Chiefs, not over romance, but over what the Chiefs represented: a consistent abuse of power.
But prepping for a fight against the United Chiefs wasn’t exactly a walk in the park; it was more like sprinting blindfolded through a minefield while someone whisperedboomin your ear every five seconds.
For starters, the Chiefs weren’t just any opponents, they were the higher authority over every First Offensive on the fucking planet.
Which meant that if we wanted to stand against them, we had to build alliances so quietly, so politely, and so indirectly no one could accuse us of forming alliances.
Because the moment we asked for support outright, it wouldn’t look like defense anymore.
