Page 28 of Scaled Daddy's Secret Heir
The silence hits like gravity shifting.
She blinks. Once. Then again.
“You don’t get to do that,” she says, voice tight. “You don’t get to drop that line like it’s just another tactical update.”
“I’m not trying to manipulate you.”
“Then whatareyou doing?”
“Giving you the chance to walk.”
“Do you want me to?”
“No.”
“Then stop pretending you do.”
I exhale. Loudly. My claws twitch, itching against my palms.
“I re-flagged your access,” I tell her. “Field liaison. You’ll have full clearance and autonomous routing authority.”
She stares. “You already did it?”
“An hour ago.”
“I could’ve been pissed.”
“Youarepissed.”
That earns the ghost of a smirk. “Well, yeah.”
I lean against the ops console. The panel lights flicker over my scales, painting gold in neon-blue stripes. “We’re in this now. No margin for error. You follow my lead.”
“Fine.”
“And if it goes hot?—”
“I stick to the plan.”
“And if we need to split?—”
“I take the data and burn the rest.”
My brow lifts. “You memorized the fallback?”
“Twice.”
Damn. “Okay then.”
She crosses her arms again, watching me like I’m a puzzle that might explode if solved too fast. “You’re scared.”
“I’m cautious.”
“No. You’re scared. Not for the mission. For me.”
“You want a medal for insight?”
She grins—wicked and sudden. “I want a drink.”
