Cassian did not tell Anabeth the full truth at first.
Not because she couldn't handle it—but because truth, delivered too early, could ruin timing.
And timing was everything.
The plan formed slowly, painfully, like a bone being set without anesthesia. Every step accounted for. Every reaction anticipated. Every risk measured and then measured again.
But one thing could not be softened.
Anabeth would be exposed.
Not accidentally.
Not collateral.
Deliberately.
Cassian stood across from her in the dimly lit apartment, hands clasped behind his back, posture rigid. The city outside was loud tonight—sirens, laughter, life continuing unaware.
She watched him carefully. "You're thinking too loudly," she said.
"I need you to listen," Cassian replied.
Her shoulders straightened. "That doesn't sound comforting."
"It isn't," he said calmly.
He told her then.
About Lucien.
About the surveillance tightening not around places, but around people.
About Hale's preference for psychological collapse over brute force.
And finally, about the only way to draw Lucien out without detonating the entire network.
Silence filled the room when he finished.
Anabeth didn't sit down.
Didn't pace.
Didn't raise her voice.
She just looked at him.
"You want to use me," she said.
"Yes," Cassian replied. No evasion.
"As bait."
"Yes."
She let out a slow breath. "And you're telling me because…?"
"Because I won't do it without your consent," he said. "And because once this starts, I won't be able to pull you out halfway."
She tilted her head. "What does 'bait' look like?"
Cassian met her gaze steadily. "You return to campus. Publicly. Predictably. Alone."
Her eyes narrowed. "That's not bait. That's a target."
"Yes," he agreed.
"And Lucien bites?"
"He won't personally," Cassian said. "He'll send someone. Watching how fast I respond. Whether Rafael breaks cover. Whether fear changes you."
She crossed her arms. "And if I'm hurt?"
Cassian's jaw tightened. "Then I failed."
She stepped closer. "That's not an answer."
"If you're hurt," he said quietly, "I burn everything between us and Hale to the ground."
She studied his face for a long moment.
"You're afraid," she said.
"Yes," Cassian admitted.
That honesty tipped the scale.
"Okay," she said.
Cassian stiffened. "You need time to think—"
"No," she interrupted. "I'm not fragile. And I won't be protected into invisibility."
He searched her face. "You understand the danger."
"I've lived inside danger since the day I met Rafael," she said. "At least this time, it has purpose."
Cassian nodded once.
Then he did something rare.
He bowed his head.
---
The next morning, Anabeth returned to campus.
No disguise.
No security detail.
Just her.
The reaction was immediate.
Whispers followed her down pathways. Eyes lingered. Phones lifted, pretending not to record. Everyone knew. Or thought they did.
She felt exposed—but not weak.
Cassian watched from three blocks away, inside a nondescript vehicle, earpiece humming with low-level chatter.
"Eyes on subject," a voice murmured.
"I see her," Cassian replied.
She sat on a bench near the library—open space, high visibility. Exactly where Lucien's people would expect her to feel safest.
Cassian's pulse remained steady.
He'd trained for moments like this.
What he hadn't trained for was how it felt to see her alone because of his choice.
Minutes passed.
Then—
Movement.
A man crossed the quad too casually. Another lingered near the stairs. A woman paused near a vending machine, eyes flicking up too often.
Cassian catalogued them all.
None of them were Lucien's primary hand.
Which meant the real test hadn't begun yet.
Anabeth stood, slung her bag over her shoulder, and headed toward the parking structure.
Cassian swore under his breath.
"That wasn't the route," he muttered.
She hadn't told him.
That meant something had already shifted.
"Stay with her," Cassian ordered quietly.
The structure swallowed sound.
Concrete echoed under Anabeth's footsteps as she descended to the second level. Her breathing remained even, though her pulse hammered.
She felt it then.
The absence.
No footsteps behind her.
No cars starting.
Just space.
Too much space.
"Cassian," she murmured into the small receiver hidden beneath her collar. "I'm not alone."
"I know," he replied instantly. "Keep walking."
A shadow detached from behind a pillar.
Then another.
Three men.
Not students.
Not security.
They moved smoothly, blocking exits without rushing.
Anabeth stopped.
"Wrong turn?" one of them asked lightly.
Cassian was already moving.
"Hands visible," the man continued. "We just want to talk."
Anabeth lifted her chin. "About what?"
"About how quickly loyalty fractures," he said.
Cassian burst into the structure seconds later—but not firing.
Not yet.
This was the line.
The one Lucien wanted crossed.
Cassian stayed hidden, weapon drawn, listening.
"You should've stayed gone," the man told her. "You make people careless."
Anabeth smiled faintly. "Funny. I was thinking the same about you."
The man stepped closer.
Cassian's finger tightened on the trigger.
Then—
A voice echoed from the shadows.
"That's enough."
Lucien stepped forward.
Alive.
Unmasked.
Smiling.
Cassian felt something cold settle in his gut.
Lucien looked at Anabeth with open interest. "You're calmer than I expected."
"I've learned who to fear," she replied.
"And who is that?" Lucien asked.
She glanced toward Cassian's hiding place.
Lucien chuckled. "Ah. There he is."
Cassian stepped into view.
Weapons rose instantly.
Lucien lifted a hand, stopping them.
"Easy," he said. "This is a conversation."
Cassian's voice was ice. "You used her."
Lucien shrugged. "You offered her."
Anabeth looked between them. "You're the one feeding Hale."
Lucien smiled sadly. "Feeding is such an ugly word."
"Why?" Cassian demanded.
Lucien's expression hardened. "Because Rafael stopped listening. Because loyalty became worship. Because someone needed leverage."
Anabeth stepped forward. "So you chose me."
Lucien met her gaze. "You're the only thing that makes men like him human."
Cassian moved instantly—gun pressed to Lucien's head.
"Order them to stand down," Cassian said.
Lucien did.
Slowly.
Silence filled the structure.
Cassian leaned closer. "This ends now."
Lucien sighed. "No. This just moved into daylight."
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Anabeth exhaled shakily for the first time.
Cassian turned to her, hand still steady.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "But they know now."
Cassian nodded. "Good."
Lucien smiled faintly even as he was restrained.
"That's what Hale wanted," he said. "Exposure."
Cassian met his gaze. "Then he won't survive what comes next."
As they escorted Lucien away, Anabeth felt the weight of the moment settle.
She had been bait.
And the trap had closed.
But the war?
The war had just stepped onto campus.