The border alarm split the packhouse air three seconds after Rowan pressed send.
Not the low warning register of this morning. The full alarm. The one that had a different frequency from every other signal the pack used, designed to produce one response and one response only in every person who heard it.
Move. Now. Positions.
Caden was already at the door.
He stopped with his hand on the frame and looked at Rowan with the specific expression of a man who has been betrayed by someone he trusted completely and is filing the grief of it away for later because later is the only time he can afford to feel it.
"How long," he said.
Rowan said nothing.
"How long have you been his," Caden said.
The question was not angry. It was the question of someone who needed an accurate number before h
