The first time it happens, I do not realize it is me.
I am standing in the war room listening to two lieutenants argue quietly about rotating shifts along the western ridge, and frustration coils tight in my chest because the argument is unnecessary and the tension in the room is already sharp enough to cut, and the moment my temper spikes the mind link crackles violently.
“Border flare,” someone shouts through the link, and his voice carries both alarm and disbelief, “east perimeter just surged red.”
The argument in front of me stops instantly.
Axel’s head lifts.
Atticus goes still.
“What triggered it,” Axel demands.
There is a pause on the other end.
“Nothing,” the warrior replies, and confusion bleeds through his voice, “no movement, no breach, it just spiked and then settled.”
