The silence that followed was deafening. Shadera looked between the two men, her mind reeling. If what Greyson said was true, if he’d been sending medicine to the rings all this time, then he wasn’t entirely the monster Jameson believed him to be, that she’d believed him to be. But he was still the Executioner. Still Maximus’s son.

“I’m staying,” she said finally, making the decision for Jameson so he wouldn’t feel the guilt of choosing the rings over her. He would choose them, she knew that. Knew that at the end of the day, no matter how much he cared for her, he would not risk thousands of innocents just to keep her alive, now that he knew the consequences. “We can’t risk the rings getting bombed. They need the medicine. I’ll find another way out.”

“With him?” Jameson asked incredulously. “With the fucking Executioner?”

Shadera glanced at Greyson, studying the rigid line of his shoulders, the way he stood perfectly still, waiting for her response. She turned back to Jameson.

“Yes,” she confirmed, her voice steadier than she felt. “You might not understand this or believe me because you haven’t seen the things I’ve seen. But we are both trapped in this. Greyson and I have to find a way out of this together if we want to save the most lives.”

Jameson was silent for a long moment, his face twisting with emotion. The clenched jaw, the furrow between his brows, the mix of anger and fear in his eyes. She knew his face better than she knew her own.

“Get out,” Jameson said finally, turning to Greyson. “I need a minute with her. Alone.”

Greyson’s posture stiffened. “Fuck no. I will—”

“Please,” Shadera interrupted, looking directly at him. “I won’t leave, but I need to say goodbye.”

She watched the internal struggle play out in Greyson’s body language—the tension in his shoulders, the slight tilt of his head as he considered. Finally, he nodded once, sharply.

“Three minutes,” he conceded, moving toward the door. “Then I’m coming back in, whether you’re done or not.”

Jameson watched Greyson exit before turning back to Shadera. For a moment, they stood frozen in the blue tinged light, the weight of everything unsaid pressing between them like a physical force. Shadera could see the raw emotion he let bleed free now—anger, fear, pain.

In one movement he closed the distance between them, reaching for her mask.

His fingers found the edges of the skull, gently lifting it from her face. The air felt cold against her skin, vulnerable and exposed after days beneath it. Jameson’s eyes roamed her features hungrily, as if searching for changes, for signs the Heart had already begun to transform her.

He moved to kiss her, his body leaning forward with the momentum of need, of desperation, of all the nights they’d spent apart. But Shadera backed away, her hand coming up between them, palm flat against his chest. A barrier. A denial.

The hurt that flashed across his face was immediate and visceral, a wound opening before her eyes. His arms that had begun to reach for her, stilled in the air.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Shadera swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

How could she explain what she didn’t understand herself? The knot of confusion and fear and something else that had been growing inside her since she’d entered the Heart. Since she’d seen beneath Greyson’s mask, touched his scars, witnessed his struggle against his father’s legacy and brutality.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said, the lie sour on her tongue. “But you need to go. We don’t have time for this. You need to get out of the Heart before they realize you’re here.”

His eyes narrowed, his gaze becoming more searching, more penetrating. She’d never been able to hide from him, not really. He knew her too well, could read the truth in the tension of her body, the way she couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Time for what?” His hands dropped to his sides. “Time for goodbye? Time for us?”

“Jay—” Still she couldn’t look at him, couldn’t witness the pain she was causing. “You need to get to safety. You need to warn the rings.”

He studied her face, reading the truth she couldn’t bring herself to voice. Understanding dawned in his eyes, followed by a flash of something darker.

“You’re really going to do this,” he said, the words falling like stones between them. “You’re going to take the Vow. With him.”

The weight of his gaze felt unbearable. “I don’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice, Shade.” His voice hardened. “Even when all the options are shit, there’s still a choice. You’re the one that told me that.”

She ran a hand through her hair, frustration building beneath her skin. “What would you have me do? Let your clinic be bombed, the camps? Let children and families die because I was selfish? Because I wanted to go home?”

“You’re falling for him, aren’t you?” The question was quiet, almost gentle, which somehow made it worse.

“No,” she said immediately, the denial sharp. “It’s more complicated than that. I’m trying to keep everyone safe.”

“It’s not just about safety,” Jameson pressed, taking a step closer. “I know you, Shade. I can see it.”

She forced herself to meet his gaze, to hold it steady. “What you see is exhaustion. Fear. Survival. What you see is someone with a new perspective, who doesn’t hate him in the same way I once did. I am playing my part. I have to—need to keep you alive.”

Jameson stared at her, assessing, trying to hold back the emotion that threatened to break through, as if searching for something he’d lost. His face was a battlefield of expressions—grief warring with anger, understanding with betrayal. In the harsh blue light of the anti-scan room, the shadows beneath his eyes looked like bruises, proof of sleepless nights and endless worry.

“You don’t need to protect me,” he said finally, his voice rougher than before. “That’s not your job.”

“Isn’t it?” she asked quietly. “Isn’t that what we’ve always done for each other?”

The weight of their situation settled into Shadera’s bones—this might be the last time they ever saw each other. The thought sent a spike of pain through her chest so sharp she almost gasped. After everything they’d been through together, after all the missions, the close calls, the nights of drinking and laughing and holding each other when the nightmares came, it couldn’t end with him dying because of her selfish need for revenge.

“You need to go,” she said again, her voice softer now. “Go back to the Boundary. Prepare them for what might come.”

He looked away, his profile sharp in the dim light. She could see the calculations running behind his eyes, the strategist in him weighing options, looking for solutions where there might be none.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “I’m sorry for not listening when you told me not to take the contract. I’m sorry for bringing this down on everyone. I’m sorry for—”

Jameson’s head snapped back toward her, his eyes suddenly fierce. He moved before she could finish, his hands coming up to cradle her face, fingers splaying across her cheeks with a gentleness that belied the intensity in his gaze.

“Shadera Kael,” he said, his voice low and intense, “don’t you ever apologize for your anger.”

Her breath caught at the unexpected absolution.

“You walked into the Heart knowing you might never come back, not just because of what his family did to yours, but because you believed it would make a difference. That’s who you are. That’s who you’ve always been.” His thumbs brushed her cheekbones, the touch reverent. “The woman who fights even when victory seems impossible. The woman who puts others before herself even when she doesn’t realize she’s doing it.”

The tears she’d been holding back threatened to spill over. She blinked rapidly, refusing to let them fall, refusing to make this goodbye harder than it already was.