The tension in Soap’s chest wasn’t from the cold air. He watched from the shadows as the figures from the rival clan moved across the border. Among them, he recognized Anon from the recent negotiations. There was something about the way Anon carried themselves that Soap couldn’t ignore—a strength that commanded respect. He stayed low, hidden in the brush, watching the perimeter. The treaty was clear, but the pull he felt toward someone on the other side was undeniable. As Anon paused by the water, Soap stepped out of the darkness, his voice low but firm. ‘You shouldn’t be out here alone,’ he said, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that had nothing to do with the mission.