Chapter Six: Lines in the Dust

The sun was just starting to crawl over the horizon, staining the sky a dusty orange, when the first shouts rang through the camp. Men barking orders. Boots grinding into dry earth. The distant sound of metal scraping against metal as the gates creaked open to let a patrol out.

Another day in hell.

I was already awake. Had been for hours. Sleep didn't come easy when you were constantly listening for footsteps outside your tent—wondering if this would be the night someone decided you were easy prey.

Lucian's voice still echoed in my mind.

I don't offer twice.

His smile had been charming—lethal beneath the surface. I knew men like him. I'd seen them in the slums before the world fell apart. The kind who took what they wanted, then smiled while you bled.

I rolled my wrist, wincing as the ache flared. The bruise was deepening, turning ugly shades of purple and black. I flexed my fingers, testing the damage. It hurt, but it wasn't broken. I'd survive.

I always did.

The flap of my tent shifted, and my heart jumped—fingers already twitching toward the small knife I kept hidden in my boot.

Cain.

He stood at the entrance, backlit by the early sun, arms crossed over his chest like he was carved from stone. Rifle slung across his back, knife strapped to his thigh—ready for war even at dawn.

His eyes found mine, dark and steady, like they were assessing every detail—the bruise on my wrist, the tightness in my posture, the shadows under my eyes. He said nothing. He didn't need to.

I pushed to my feet, stretching out the stiffness, pretending his gaze didn't make my skin heat.

"You ever sleep, or do you just stare at the horizon until it flinches first?" I muttered, trying to break the tension.

Cain's lips twitched—so fast I almost missed it. Almost.

"I'm fine," I added, holding up my bruised wrist like it was nothing.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Lucian called you in."

Not a question. A statement.

The air between us shifted.

He knew.

Of course, he knew.

I shrugged, keeping my voice light. "Word travels fast."

"What did he want?"

My smirk was automatic, a shield I'd perfected over the years. "Oh, you know. Sweet nothings. A couple of roses. Maybe a promise to whisk me away."

Cain didn't smile.

I sighed, letting the mask slip—just a little. "He offered… security. If I stay in line. If I—"

I didn't finish.

Didn't need to.

Cain understood what men like Lucian demanded.

His jaw tightened. "And?"

"I said no."

Relief flickered in his eyes, gone as fast as it appeared.

"You need to be careful," he said, his voice lower, rougher. "Lucian—"

"I can handle him," I interrupted, sharper than I meant. I needed Cain to see that I wasn't some fragile thing he had to save. "I've handled worse."

Cain's gaze lingered on me, unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded. It wasn't agreement. It was… acceptance.

Like he knew I wouldn't listen, but he'd be watching anyway.

The tension between us was still settling when a voice cut through it like a blade.

"Aw, am I interrupting something?"

Ash.

I turned as he strolled toward us, all cocky ease and mischief. His dark hair was wild, his shirt halfway unbuttoned, exposing a lean chest with old scars. A grin split his face, wide and sharp, like he knew exactly what he was walking into—and enjoyed it.

Cain stiffened beside me, his posture shifting—subtle, but there. A wall between me and Ash.

"Oh, don't mind me," Ash continued, hands raised like he was innocent. "I just came to see how our little rising star is doing after her big day out."

I smirked despite myself. "Still breathing."

Ash's grin widened. "Good. I'd hate to miss out on all this fun."

Cain's silence was louder than any threat.

Ash noticed. Of course, he did. He thrived on this kind of thing.

"You two seem cozy," Ash mused, his gaze flicking between us. "Cain giving you the 'stay in line, don't die' speech yet? He loves that one."

I snorted. "Oh, yeah. Full performance. I give it a seven out of ten."

Cain's jaw flexed. His eyes didn't leave Ash.

Ash rocked back on his heels, eyes sparkling with amusement—but there was something else there. Something sharper.

"You settling in alright?" he asked, but his tone shifted—quieter, more intentional. It wasn't just small talk.

He knew.

About Lucian.

Maybe more than he should.

I measured my words. "I'm adapting."

Ash nodded like that meant something. "Good. You'll need to."

There it was again. That undercurrent.

A warning hidden in the grin.

Cain stepped forward—not aggressive, but possessive. "She's fine."

Ash's eyes flicked to him, grin still in place, but there was tension now.

History.

Something unsaid between them.

"I'm just being friendly, Cain," Ash said smoothly. "You know me."

"That's the problem," Cain shot back.

The air thickened, charged with something unspoken. I felt like I was standing between two wolves, both circling, waiting for the other to slip.

"Alright," I cut in. "Enough testosterone. You both win. You're very scary. Can we all breathe now?"

Ash laughed, loud and easy. "Fair point."

But his eyes lingered on Cain a second too long.

"Well," Ash continued, stepping back. "If you ever need a break from Captain Grumpy here, you know where to find me."

Cain tensed. I swear I heard his teeth grind.

Ash winked at me. "Careful, Kira. These camps chew up girls like you."

"I bite back," I shot back.

Ash's grin was all teeth. "Good. I like biters."

He sauntered off, whistling some upbeat tune that didn't belong in this broken world.

Cain was still staring after him, his fists curled loosely at his sides.

"What's the story there?" I asked quietly.

Cain didn't look at me. "Ash doesn't play by the rules."

"And you do?"

His eyes finally met mine—steady, serious. "I do what keeps people alive."

I let his words sink in.

Cain was the shield.

Ash was the wildfire.

And Lucian…

Lucian was the blade pressed against my throat, waiting for me to breathe wrong.

The lines were clearer now.

But that didn't make them any less dangerous.

I was standing in the middle.

And I needed to figure out how to survive without getting cut.