Chapter 5

[POV: Nora | Timeline: Day | Location: Coffee Shop — Climax of Free Trial]

The next morning, Captain Thorne found me at the coffee shop on Fifth Street.

"You met with him," he said, sitting across from me without being invited.

I didn't deny it.

Denial would have confirmed everything he was already assuming.

"Yes, he came to my clinic," I said carefully. "He wanted to make sure I understood the situation."

"What situation?"

That I'm being used as bait in a game I don't fully understand." I wrapped my hands around my coffee cup for warmth that I didn't actually need, but wanted anyway. "That there's more to this than the official narrative. He knows you already know this, but he's not telling you because he's testing you."

Thorne's jaw tightened.

"So you do know the truth," he said.

"I know Reth's medical records show that he was conducting research on something before he disappeared. I know that the research disappeared with him. I know that the Enforcement Agency is looking for him too intently for this to just be about stopping Rogue attacks." I met his eyes. "You're not actually here to execute him. You're here to protect him."

A long silence stretched between us.

"If that were true," Thorne finally said, "what would you do with that information?"

What would I do?

This was the choice that would define everything that came after.

I could report to Enforcement.

I could provide them with Reth's location, patterns, and vulnerabilities.

I could do my job and walk away clean.

Or, I could burn down everything I’d built, stand beside a man I barely understood, and fight against the organization that had trained me.

"I'd want to know what he was researching," I said. "I'd want to know what was so dangerous that they'd rather have him disappear than let him publish it. And I'd want to help him."

Thorne studied me for a long moment.

"He's fighting to prove that the official justification for hunting Rogues is based on fabricated evidence," he said quietly. Five years ago, the government ordered a systematic purge of anyone showing genetic markers for what they called 'Rogue deviation.' They claimed it was for Pack safety. Reth discovered it was actually for genetic compliance. They wanted to eliminate the genetic line that could challenge Pack authority."

"Genetic markers?" My training kicked in. "So, you mean that Rogues aren't actually corrupted Pack members? They're a separate subspecies that the Pack has been systematically eradicating."

"Bingo," Thorne said. "Reth was going to prove it. He stole the research files, disappeared into the underground, and has been on the run ever since. The attacks on Pack members? Those are staged by Internal Enforcement to justify increased hunting protocols."

I felt the world tilt.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"Because Reth won't," Thorne said. "He's too busy trying to protect you from this war to let you fight in it. And because I think you need to make the choice he's too honorable to let you make."

He slid a phone across the table.

It was a burner phone: encrypted and untraceable.

"That's his contact," Thorne said. "He's planning one final move: releasing all the research to the media and going public with everything. It's going to blow up the Pack structure. It's going to make him the most wanted person alive. It's also going to destroy any future he might have had."

"And you want me to—"

“I want you to decide if he’s worth that sacrifice,” Thorne said. "If you are.

If you stand with him on this, your life as you know it will end. There's no going back after this," he continued.

I looked at the phone, then at my hands, recalling the exact placement of the surgical implants I’d discovered when I’d traced Reth’s scarring.

His words lingered in my mind.

"I wanted to believe I could be someone other than what I was made to be."

I could still remember the fear in his eyes last night—not fear of being caught, but fear of pulling me down with him.

But he didn't get to make that decision for me.

Not this time.

Not anymore.

I picked up the phone.

My fingers trembled as I scrolled to the single contact on the encrypted device.

No name. Just a symbol: ◊

A message flashed across the screen:

[I've been waiting for you to decide.]

[The choice is made.]

[Welcome to the underground, Nora.]

[Everything changes now.]