OPERATION WINTERSPINE (Strings Between Us Book 2)

CHAPTER SEVEN: OF THE HEART, THE SIGIL, AND THE CROWN

"Ghost hours," Seb muttered.

"Rowan Lopez and Keiran Lim are even dirtier," I added. "Both connect to offshore proxy servers flagged in a past Halcyon courier scrape. I verified the hashes twice."

"To summarize," Alexie said, leaning back lazily, "that's half the Council compromised."

"Seven out of fifteen," Seb corrected, eyes flicking to his trap-sensor screen. "And Reyes has been dodging tribunal hearings for informants. My lures aren't catching anything anymore. Someone's warning them."

"Lopez is just a megaphone," I said. "Morales writes the script. That leaves only one true constant."

We all turned back to the center of the table. Khaizer's name hovered at the top of the list.

Khaizer Dylan Dela Vega—President—Supreme Head of Council. Final Authority.

He was the anomaly. The one variable untouched by the corruption. Not because they feared him. Because they thought he was blind. They were wrong.

He wasn't blind. He was just alone. But not anymore.

He's also... Ari's. Which means, by extension, he's ours.

But I know it's more than that. I knew her before she was the Court's Heart. Before he was the one she turned to. I lost her, not because I stopped loving her—but because I started thinking I was the only one allowed to bleed.

"We protect him," Lyle said finally, eyes sharper than the daggers behind his back. "But without him knowing."

The words drop like weight. A new law written in frost. That's the part I hate—the without knowing. Because Khaizer's not dumb. Not even close. He's perceptive. He listens when no one else thinks he's listening. He asks the wrong questions... which means they might be the right ones.

"We assign silent guards. Tri-Havoc's in charge of front-line defense—Ari, Xythe, Saichel." His gaze flicked to each of us. "He's Ari's boyfriend. That gives us cover. You're close already. No one questions it."

No ceremony. Just assignment.

Because it had to be us.
Because Ari is the girlfriend.
Because Saichel can blend.
Because I don't miss.

I feel my pulse tick against my wrist. Just once. Ari doesn't look at me. She doesn't have to. She already knows I'd protect him.

Because that's what you do when you couldn't protect her. Not when it mattered.

Funny, isn't it? You train all your life to win wars, only to lose what mattered before the first shot was ever fired.

"Seb and Tofer," Lyle continued, "shadow protection. Off-record intercepts. No digital trail. You monitor both Council threats and exterior surveillance traps. If he's followed, we know before he does."

"Tofer already modified the Eclipsa cams," Seb said quietly. "And I'm syncing my motion cloaks tonight."

"We preserve his role," Lyle added. "Let Keryn's hybrid uniform mark him as Court-protected without him realizing. If we do our job—he never finds out."

"And if we fail?" Keryn's voice breaks the tension.

"Then we reveal everything," Lyle said. "Only if protection becomes impossible without intervention."

The silence that followed was heavier than most. Like everyone felt the same invisible weight land in the center of the table. Khaizer didn't ask to be guarded. But he was ours now. Which meant he didn't get to choose.

And just as I was running final pattern traces on Ortega's proxy server spikes, Keryn stood up—too quietly.

"I made something," she said.