Kai didn’t leave after one night.
Nobody quite explained how it happened, only that a week later he was still there, sharpening a blade by the fire like he’d always belonged, and Damian’s patience had worn thin enough that everyone in camp could feel it.
The fire cast long shadows across the clearing that evening, the scent of charred wood thick in the cold air. Kai lounged against a fallen log, infuriatingly relaxed for someone being interrogated, his boots scuffed against the dirt.
Damian wasn’t fooled. Neither was Rhea. Both stood like stone, arms crossed, watching him with a stillness that promised nothing good.
“You’re wasting my time,” Damian said, voice cutting through the quiet. “Who are you? Really?”
Kai exhaled through his nose. “Didn’t we do this already?”
“Answer the ques
