I’m halfway through my morning tea, letting the warmth sink into me, when I hear footsteps crunching toward the lean-to. Dash is already by the door, his posture straightening as Branson approaches, his face tight with worry.

“They’re here,” Branson says, keeping his voice low.

Dash glances at me, and I nod, setting my mug down with a sigh. We knew this was coming. But knowing it would happen doesn’t make it easier now that they’re here.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “Let’s go, then.”

I can’t help but feel frustrated at the fact that due to my reproductive organs, I was reduced to property in this group’s eyes. Within the camp, I am respected and sought after for counsel and guidance but in front of the Sovereign Accord, I was silenced. Infuriating.

As we head down to the camp center, the air is filled with tense murmurs. People shift nervously, keeping their distance as they watch the black-clad soldiers from the Accord, their faces set with a quiet arrogance. Lieutenant Reeves stands at the front, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze sweeping over the camp with an air of proprietorship.

When his eyes land on me and Dash, a thin smile spreads across his face. “Ah, the newlyweds.” He says it with a hint of mockery, his gaze flicking between us. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

Dash steps closer to me, his arm settling around my shoulders with practiced ease. It’s a simple gesture, but it feels grounding, keeping my pulse steady even as my stomach twists. I meet Reeves’s gaze with a polite smile. “Thank you. We’re very happy,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light, as though this conversation is just a pleasant formality.

Reeves’s eyes narrow slightly, as if assessing, and then he begins with the questioning. “How long have you known each other? I must say, it’s rare to find two people so willing to commit in… these circumstances.”

“We’ve known each other since I arrived at the camp eight months ago,” I say smoothly. “We figured there’s no point waiting around in times like these.”

Clearly annoyed that I was speaking to him as he had been looking to Dash to answer, he nods, as though satisfied. His tone takes on a patronizing edge. “Smart of you both. It’s always best for a woman to have… protection.”

I force myself to nod, even as my skin crawls under his gaze. “Couldn’t agree more.”

Dash’s grip tightens slightly on my shoulder, a subtle gesture, but one that reassures me. I feel my throat tickle, a sign of the cold creeping in, and I stifle a cough, hoping it doesn’t show on my face.

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Reeves’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he looks at Dash. “And I assume you’re keeping her in line, as any good husband should?”

Dash’s eyes don’t waver as he holds Reeves’s gaze. “We look out for each other,” he says, his tone even and unbothered.

Reeves seems amused by this. “Is that so?”

Before he can say more, Branson steps forward. “The camp has worked hard to keep order here, Lieutenant,” he says, keeping his voice steady. “We’re more than willing to cooperate with the Accord.”

It takes all of my power to not roll my eyes.

Reeves barely acknowledges him, his attention lingering on Dash and me. “I do hope that’s true.” He casts a glance around the camp, his eyes catching on several younger women, and I feel a shiver run through me. “After all, we wouldn’t want anyone to fall through the cracks of society.”

As Reeves continues his casual intimidation, my throat prickles again. I stifle another cough, but this time, it slips out, a small sound that catches Reeves’s attention. His gaze sharpens, and I can feel Dash’s arm subtly tense, as if ready to step in.

“Something wrong?” Reeves asks, his tone laced with mock concern.

I swallow hard, keeping my expression steady. “Just the cold air,” I say lightly. “It’s been hard to shake it off.”

Reeves studies me for a beat longer than necessary, but Dash intervenes smoothly. “We’re fine,” he says, his voice as steady as ever. “Just getting used to the chill.”

Reeves smirks, giving a faint shrug. “Very well. We’ll be back to check on things soon enough, so keep your affairs in order. And make sure you’re ready to contribute.”

He turns to go, gesturing for the rest of his men to follow. They move with an air of smug authority, leaving a lingering silence in their wake. The entire camp seems to release a collective breath as they leave.

As soon as the Accord soldiers disappear beyond the trees, I finally allow myself to relax. My shoulders slump, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. The adrenaline starts to fade, leaving a heaviness in my chest and a dull ache behind my eyes.

Dash glances at me, his gaze assessing. “You alright?”

I look back to the young women and want to shake my fist at the sky in anger. Sometimes it feels like the injustices run deeper than we’ll ever be able to repair.

I look back to Dash, realizing he’s still waiting for my answer. “Fine,” I say, but my voice sounds rougher than I intended. I clear my throat, trying to brush it off. “Just… tired.”

He doesn’t look convinced, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something like concern in his expression. “Maybe you should rest,” he says quietly.

I want to argue, to brush it off, but even I can feel the ache settling in, my body already protesting against the strain. “Maybe just for a bit,” I murmur.

Dash nods, guiding me back to the lean-to before I can start talking with others and get caught up at the main camp. Once home, he helps me settle down, handing me a blanket and stoking the fire until the lean-to fills with a comforting warmth. As I sink down, pulling the blanket around me, I feel the tension from the day begin to fade, replaced by a familiar exhaustion.

Before I drift off, I catch a glimpse of Dash watching me, his expression unreadable but softer than I’ve ever seen it. There’s a quiet strength in his gaze, and for the first time, I feel a strange sense of comfort in knowing he’s here, keeping watch.