The cabin was unexpectedly comfortable, though not in any way that suggested human warmth.
It was clean, minimal, and functional—an extension of Dylan himself.
Timber walls framed the room dominated by a desk, a steel-framed bed, a private bathroom, and maps pinned to magnetic boards.
There were no photographs, decorations or clutter.
Everything served a distinct purpose.
Dylan deposited me onto the edge of the mattress with surprising gentleness.
Leila stepped inside a moment later, setting a medical case on the desk with a clatter.
Dylan gave me an unreadable look before turning on his heel and leaving the cabin, the door clicking shut behind him.
”Alright, let’s see the damage,” Leila said, snapping on a pair of latex gloves.
I groaned as she carefully cut away the torn denim around my right knee.
“How did you manage this?” she asked, dabbling an iodine swab over the raw skin.
”I fell.” ”I know you fell but I just want to know how you managed to get these many bruises while out with the Boss.
Least of all to acquire it when you only encountered a single Class-4.” ”Ah, that?
I’m a disaster to myself.
I trip over my own two feet.” Leila paused, her swab hovering in the air for a second before she resumed cleaning the wound with ruthless efficiency.
“Of course you did.
Word travels fast around here, Mrs.
Burke.
Half the compound thinks you threw yourself off a ridge to escape a Class-4, and the other half thinks you got dropped.” ”I hit a loose rock,” I hissed through my teeth as the disinfectant burned into the scrape.
“And please, call me Stella.
‘Mrs.
Burke’ sounds like someone’s strict grandmother.” Leila snorted, reaching into her kit for a bandage.
“Fair enough.
You’re surprisingly tough for someone whose shoes just died.” ”Speaking of which,” I said, pointing to myself, “are there any spare clothes in my size or slightly bigger?
I smell like I saw the light at the end of a tunnel.
I mean I did but I don’t have to smell like the journey.” A young junior operative knocked once and stepped inside once granted access, dropping a folded stack of royal blue long sleeve overalls onto the foot of the bed and left.
”You can wash up in the bathroom over there.
I’ll send someone to get you food and please, rest for as long as necessary.
Don’t move around until you’re much better,” Leila informed me, standing up and stripping off her gloves.
She had wrapped my knees in a way that made it easier to shower without worrying about ruining her effort.
“Thanks doc.” I was looking at the fabric of the overalls when the thought hit me, then gasped, “Wait.
My bag.
Did it by chance make it out alive?” ”Dead,” Leila said without a shred of sympathy.
”You’re horrible.” ”You’ll fit in fine.” Once Leila left, the quiet of the cabin settled heavily around me.
I quickly removed the mud-soaked clothes and carried the new one into the bathroom.
Luckily, they were smart enough to give me underwear too.
The shower stall was moderately spacious and I didn’t have to struggle when navigating the hot and cold of the tap head.
I stood under the spray without moving, watching the water run pink at my knee before it cleared.
I didn’t scrub, didn’t rush — just let it happen to me for a while.
Unknowingly, I had gone almost two days without having a proper bath.
My thoughts travelled from the wedding to the aftermath and I couldn’t help thinking about everything that had changed within a few hours.
I had been so focused on the wedding and Dylan that I had forgotten about my life before him.
My work.
There was a client deadline sitting untouched in my inbox that I hadn’t thought about once since the wedding — which was either impressive or deeply concerning, depending on how you looked at it.
As far as anyone at the office knew, I’d simply stopped showing up.
My friends.
Kimani was going to kill me.
Not metaphorically.
Actually kill me, the moment she finds out I’d gotten married and been dragged into a monster hunt inside the same forty-eight hours and hadn’t called.
My life.
Whatever that meant anymore.
I understood that I had brought this on myself but the change inadvertently affected everything else.
So much so that I was in a cabin somewhere far from my normal lifestyle, in the room of my husband.
My husband.
Worse, I was in a position where I could have probably been more useful to Dylan if I had powers like my sister.
I looked at my hands before I picked up his bath soap.
It didn’t even have any scent.
My thoughts circled back to Dylan.
The last thing I ever thought would happen was being bound to him for the foreseeable future.
I sighed and quickly finished bathing.
Dressed, hair dry, I almost felt like myself again — the version of me with a job and a best friend and a life that made sense.
Almost.
Without thinking twice about it, I laid down and planned to pass out and hoped I could wake up three days in the past.
Maybe I could get a do-over?
Hihi Through the window left ajar near the desk, the low murmur of voices drifted in from the perimeter walkway.
Two guards were standing just out of sight beneath the eaves.
”She’s actually staying in there?” a low voice asked.
”Apparently.” ”Boss doesn’t let anyone in there.
Not even Command when they visit.” A short pause followed.
”Don’t start,” the second guard warned quietly.
“She’s technically the only one who made it past the wedding.” ”That’s not what I meant.” ”It’s what happened.
Remember the last one from the southern family?
Tried to corner him in his own quarters during the winter sweep.
She was on a transport back to the capital by morning.” ”Yeah, well, none of them came back as his wife either.” The footsteps faded as the guards moved down the patrol line.