Chapter three
1175 Words
Octavia’s POV
I spent the whole afternoon sitting on the floor, hiding behind the big marble bed. No one could see me there unless they walked all the way inside the room.
In front of me was the digital clock from the bedside table. I had taken it completely apart. Tiny screws, wires, and pieces of plastic were spread across the floor.
I wasn’t trying to fix it, I was changing it.
Slowly and carefully, I adjusted the wires and added small parts from the repair kit I had hidden in my pocket. I was turning the clock into a signal sniffer… a small device that could catch electronic signals.
So every time Lyra or Cassian enters the room, the biometric locks on the doors will send out a signal. If I could capture that signal, I could study it. If I could study it, I could understand it. And if I could understand it, I might find a weakness.
And if I found a weakness…
I might finally find a way out.
But my stomach growled. I hadn't eaten since the garage, and my body was starting to feel weak.
The door hissed open. I quickly shoved the clock parts under the bed and sat up, smoothing my hair.
Lyra walked in. She wasn't smiling. She carried a silver tray with a bowl of soup and a glass of water. She set the tray down on a glass table with a loud clink.
"Eat," Lyra said. Her voice was like ice. "Cassian doesn't want his 'project' starving to death."
I walked over to the table. I didn't touch the food yet. I looked at Lyra. She was staring at me, her eyes tracing my face, my hair, and my simple clothes. She looked like she wanted to slap me.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked.
Lyra stepped closer. She was taller than me in her high heels. "You think you're special, don't you? You think because he brought you here instead of killing you, it means something."
"I don't think anything," I said. "I just want to go home."
Lyra laughed. It was a mean, sharp sound. "Nobody ever goes 'home' from the Cloud Fortress, Octavia. I was exactly like you once. I thought I was the only one who could understand him. I thought I was the one who could soften the Ghost."
She leaned in, her icy perfume filling my nose. "Look at me. I’m his assistant now. I’m the one who cleans up his messes. If you stay, that is the best you can hope for. But if you get in my way... if you try to take what is mine... I will make sure you disappear just like your brother."
My heart stopped. "You know about Harry?"
Lyra’s smile was cruel. "I know everything that happens in this city. Cassian is a man of secrets, but even secrets have shadows. Don't get comfortable, technician. You’re just a toy until the batteries run out."
She turned and marched out of the room. The door hissed shut, locking with a heavy click.
I looked at the soup. I was hungry, but my mind was spinning. Lyra wasn't just an assistant; she was a woman who was losing her power, and she saw me as the threat. That made her dangerous.
I ate the soup quickly. I needed strength. I didn't care about her threats. If Lyra knew about Harry, then the information was in this building.
An hour later, the door opened again. It wasn't Lyra this time.
Cassian stood there. He had changed into a dark grey shirt, the sleeves rolled up to show his strong arms. He looked at me, then at the empty soup bowl.
"Did Lyra behave herself?" he asked.
"She told me I'm a toy," I said, standing up. "And she told me I'll never leave."
Cassian walked into the room, his eyes dark. "Lyra talks too much. She’s forgotten her place."
"And what is my place, Cassian? Am I really just a project?"
Cassian stopped in front of me. He was so close I could feel the heat from his body. "You're the only person who has ever broken into my garage and looked me in the eye without shaking. That makes you a rarity."
He reached out, his fingers brushing the hair away from my forehead. "Come with me."
I followed him out of the room. We walked through long, quiet hallways filled with glowing blue lights. Finally, we reached a heavy steel door. Cassian pressed his hand to the scanner, and the door slid open.
Inside was a room filled with weapons. Rifles, handguns, and knives were displayed on the walls like art.
"Pick one," Cassian said.
"Why?" I asked, looking at the wall of death.
"I want to see if you're as smart as I think you are," he said, leaning against a table. "Which one of these is the most dangerous?"
I walked along the wall, my eyes scanning the metal and the springs. I stopped in front of a long, black sniper rifle. I didn't pick it up. I just pointed.
"That one," I said. "But it won't work."
Cassian’s eyebrows shot up. "That is a custom Wolfe-7. It’s perfect."
"No," I said, pointing to a tiny gap in the metal near the trigger. "The tension spring is backward. If you pull that trigger, the whole thing will jam and probably explode in your face. It’s a beautiful wall decoration, but it’s a terrible weapon."
Cassian walked over, looking closely at the spot I pointed out. He touched the metal, then looked at me. For the first time, his cold face looked surprised.
“Wow… wow,” he said quietly. “You don’t scare easily.”
“I don’t scare over metal and screws,” I replied.
He studied me for a long moment. Then his gaze shifted, not to the rifle, but past me.
“To the left,” he said softly.
I frowned. “What?”
“To the left of you. Look.”
Slowly, I turned. There was a small black camera in the corner of the ceiling. I hadn’t noticed it before.
“It’s been there the whole time,” Cassian said. “Recording everything you had been doing back in the room.”
My stomach dropped.
“You knew I was hiding behind the bed,” I whispered.
“Of course.
“And the clock?”
“Yes.”
My heart began to pound.
“You let me think I was being clever.”
A faint smile touched his lips.
“I wanted to see how far you would go.”
The room suddenly felt smaller, and the walls closer.
“How much did you see?” I asked quietly.
Cassian stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“Enough to know,” he said, “that you were trying to escape.”
I froze, the silence between us turning heavy.
“And that,” he continued softly, “is far more interesting.”
- Writer
