Chapter 3 - She Didn’t Say My Name
The camp came together fast.
Renata moved like a commander with no time for ceremony—barking orders, assigning duties, drawing the perimeter with words and warning. Her team responded without hesitation. No chatter. No camaraderie. Just clean, disciplined motion.
Tlacaelel set his gear near a patch of dry brush and watched her move through her unit like a needle through cloth—stitching order, drawing lines.
Not once—not once—had she looked at him.
He scratched his neck, half amused, half insulted.
I’ve negotiated ceasefires between warring bloodlines. Now I’m being treated like a mail courier with good hair.
She turned toward the center of camp. He slipped into step beside her. Hands tucked in his back pockets. Tone casual. Smile easy.
“Strong tea
