Sage

I find Greg near the tool shed, leaning against the weathered wood like he owns the place. He’s tossing a small rock up and down, his expression a mix of boredom and smugness, and for a moment, I have to remind myself why this is necessary.

“Greg,” I call, my voice steady. “I need you to come with me to Branson’s tent.”

He straightens, catching the rock mid-air and slipping it into his pocket. “Why? What’s going on?”

“I’m updating Branson on the negotiations,” I say, keeping my tone neutral. “You’re the only one here who knows the route to the Accord camp. If we’re going to maintain contact, I think you’d be the best candidate to act as a liaison.”

His eyes narrow slightly, his ego clearly intrigued. “A liaison, huh?”

“Exactly,” I say with a faint smile. “You’ve already shown Reeves you’re capable. This would give you the opportunity to solidify that impression.”

He looks pleased, but he schools it quickly, his tone casual. “Makes sense. Alright, lead the way.”

I suppress a smirk. He’s playing it cool, but I can tell he’s hooked.

We make our way to Branson’s tent, the air inside carrying the faint scent of cedar and smoke. Branson is seated at the table, his arms crossed, his face set in that no-nonsense expression he always wears when we talk strategy. Dash leans against the far wall, his eyes tracking Greg like a hawk.

“Sage,” Branson greets, nodding at me. “What’s the update?”

I sit down, gesturing for Greg to take the seat beside me. “The negotiations ended with Reeves agreeing to the pipeline arrangement,” I say. “He’s sending some of Alicia’s people to assist, and her camp will provide oversight on their sections. It’ll speed up the project and keep her camp in the loop.”

Branson raises an eyebrow. “Reeves agreed to that?”

“Reluctantly,” I reply, my tone dry. “But he sees the benefit to his timeline, and I made sure to frame it in a way that made him feel like it was his idea.”

Branson leans forward slightly, his interest piqued. “And Alicia? She was fine with sending her people?”

“She didn’t have much of a choice,” I say, my voice steady. “It was the best way to keep Reeves off her back without compromising her camp entirely.”

Branson nods, but his gaze flicks to Dash briefly, and I can tell he’s holding back questions.

“I want Greg to act as our liaison moving forward,” I continue. “He knows the route to the Accord camp, and he’s already made an impression on Reeves. It makes sense for him to handle communications between camps.”

Greg leans back, trying to look nonchalant. “I mean, if you think I’m the right person for the job…”

“You are,” I say firmly. “This isn’t just about communication—it’s about keeping things smooth. If Reeves sees a familiar face, it’ll help maintain the peace.”

Branson watches me carefully, but he doesn’t argue. “Alright. Greg, you’re on it. But you report directly to me or Sage. No solo missions, understood?”

Greg nods, his chest puffing out slightly. “Got it.”

The meeting wraps quickly, and Greg heads out, looking far too pleased with himself. I linger for a moment, turning to Branson. “I need to check in with Mara. She’s been keeping an eye on the women’s assignments, and I want to make sure everything’s on track.”

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“Go ahead,” Branson says, his tone even.

I nod, stepping out into the sunlight. The moment I’m gone, I know Dash will take the opportunity to fill Branson in on the real plan.

Dash

As soon as Sage disappears, Branson looks at me, one eyebrow raised. “Alright, what aren’t you telling me?”

I push off the wall, crossing my arms as I step closer to the table. “Greg’s not just a liaison. He’s a pawn.”

Branson’s expression hardens, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“Sage and I talked it through,” I continue. “Reeves sees potential in Greg, and Greg’s too caught up in the idea of being important to realize he’s being played. We’re going to use him to feed Reeves misinformation.”

Branson exhales slowly, his jaw tightening. “And you think Greg can handle this without screwing it up?”

“He doesn’t need to handle anything,” I say. “All he has to do is believe he’s in the know. We control what he tells Reeves, and if it backfires, it lands on Greg, not us.”

Branson leans back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That’s a dangerous game, Dash.”

“It’s less dangerous than letting Reeves gain ground,” I reply, my tone firm. “Greg’s fascination with the Accord makes him the perfect fall guy. He’s already halfway in their pocket—we’re just making sure the pocket’s empty.”

Branson is quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the table. Then he nods slowly. “Alright. But if this goes sideways, it’s on you and Sage to clean up the mess.”

“Understood,” I say.

Branson leans forward, his voice low. “Keep an eye on Greg. If he starts getting too comfortable, pull him back. And make sure Sage knows what she’s doing. Reeves isn’t someone you want to gamble with.”

“I know,” I say, my jaw tightening. “We’ve got it under control.”

I start to leave but pause at the entrance of the tent. Something in Branson’s expression makes me stay. His arms are crossed, his brow furrowed in that way that means he’s already three steps ahead of the rest of us.

“You’ve got more to say,” I prompt, crossing my own arms.

Branson gestures to the chair Greg vacated, his tone sharp. “Sit. This isn’t a quick conversation.”

I take the seat, leaning forward as Branson runs a hand over his jaw. “What do you really think about this pipeline agreement?” he asks.

“It’s a temporary bandage,” I say. “It keeps Reeves focused on what he thinks is a win, but the second it’s done, he’ll start sniffing around again.”

Branson nods, his gaze steady. “And Alicia’s camp? You think they’ll hold up their end?”

“They will,” I say firmly. “Alicia’s people are resilient, and they’ll follow her lead. But having some of them tied up here weakens their position, and Reeves knows it.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Branson says, his voice low. “Reeves isn’t going to let this slide. He’ll wait until their numbers are split, then push for control again. He’s not the type to leave loose ends.”

I exhale, the weight of his words settling heavily in my chest. “So what’s your solution?”

Branson leans back, his eyes narrowing slightly. “We bring them here.”

The words hang in the air, sharp and undeniable.

“You’re talking about merging camps,” I say, my voice careful.

He nods once. “Alicia’s camp is strong, but they’re isolated. And isolation doesn’t work when someone like Reeves is circling. If we combine forces, we can fortify this place, make it impossible for the Accord to push us around.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” I admit. “But it’s not that simple. Alicia won’t agree unless she’s sure her people will have autonomy here. And Sage…” I trail off, thinking of the weight she’s already carrying. “Sage is going to have her own thoughts on this.”

Branson’s mouth quirks into a faint smirk. “Sage is a lot of things, but she’s not short-sighted. If this is what’s best for the camps, she’ll see that.”

“Maybe,” I say, though the knot in my chest tightens. “But convincing Alicia won’t be easy. She’s not the type to back down from a fight.”

“Which is why we don’t frame it as surrender,” Branson says. “We make it clear this is about survival. A partnership. Her people stay her people, but they have the safety of numbers.”

“And what about the logistics?” I ask. “You’re talking about moving an entire camp fifteen miles. That’s not exactly subtle.”

Branson’s expression hardens. “We’ll make it work. If Alicia’s people are willing, we’ll find a way to get them here safely. But first, we need to lay the groundwork.”

I nod slowly, my mind already turning over the possibilities. “Sage needs to be part of this conversation. She’s the only one who can convince Alicia to even consider it.”

Branson leans forward, his eyes sharp. “And you’re the one who needs to make sure Sage is ready for that conversation. If this works, it changes everything—for better or worse.”

“I know,” I say quietly.

He nods, his gaze steady. “Then let’s make sure it’s for the better.”

I rise, the weight of the conversation settling heavily on my shoulders. This isn’t just about Alicia’s camp or the pipeline. It’s about survival—ours, theirs, and everyone caught in Reeves’s web.

As I step out into the cool evening air, I know one thing for sure: the decisions we make in the next few days will shape everything that comes next.