The problem with storms is that you always hear the thunder first.
By morning, the lair was too orderly. Too quiet. People moved with purpose, but without ease. Every laugh sounded forced. Every conversation ended the moment someone else walked in.
I knew before anyone told me.
Leadership was watching.
Mace stood near the center table, arms crossed, gaze sharp. Two others flanked him. Not guards. Witnesses. That was worse.
Cager wasn't there.
Nyra leaned in beside me. "They called her in early," she murmured. "Didn't invite anyone else."
I kept my face neutral. My chest tightened anyway.
The meeting dragged. Supply counts. Territory checks. Empty talk layered over real concern. No one mentioned the Saints out loud. No one had to.
When Cager finally entered, the room shifted.
She looked composed. Controlled. The same as always. If she was carrying the weight of last night, it didn't show on the surface. That was her gift. Or her curse.
Mace didn't waste time.
"You broke protocol," he said. "You engaged when de-escalation was still possible."
"They stepped into our space," Cager replied evenly. "They were warned."
"You brought an untested asset with you."
That landed like a blade.
I didn't react. Didn't move. Didn't give them the satisfaction.
Cager's eyes flicked to me. Just once.
"She's not untested," she said. "She followed instruction. Stayed within range. Didn't escalate."
"She shouldn't have been there at all," Mace snapped.
"She's here because I put her there."
Silence.
That was the first crack.
"You're too close," Mace said finally. "And you know what that does to judgment."
Cager stepped forward. "You're questioning my control."
"I'm questioning your priorities."
The room held its breath.
Cager didn't raise her voice. Didn't reach for authority. She did something far more dangerous.
She told the truth.
"My priority is keeping this territory intact," she said. "That includes the people who can survive it."
Mace studied her. Long. Calculating.
"Then understand this," he said. "If your judgment slips, it won't just be your reputation on the line."
His gaze shifted to me.
"It'll be hers."
That was the threat.
The meeting ended shortly after. No resolution. Just tension left to rot.
Cager didn't look at me as she passed. That hurt more than the confrontation.
Later, I found her in the stairwell. One hand braced against the wall. Head bowed. The control gone, just for a moment.
"They'll come after you now," she said quietly. "Not openly. Politically."
"I can handle it," I replied.
She laughed under her breath. "That's what scares me."
I stepped closer. "You defended me."
"I defended my decision," she corrected.
I met her eyes. "Those aren't mutually exclusive."
She closed her eyes for a beat. When she opened them, something was different. Not softer. Sharper.
"They're trying to push me," she said. "And they're using you to do it."
"Then stop letting them," I said.
Her jaw tightened. "I can't afford mistakes."
"Then stop treating me like one."
Silence pressed in around us.
She reached out again. Didn't touch. Her hand hovered near my shoulder.
"I don't know how to do this without hurting you," she admitted.
"Then don't push me away," I said. "That's already hurting."
Her breath hitched.
For a second, I thought she might pull me in. Might finally give in to the gravity between us.
Instead, footsteps echoed above us.
She stepped back. Mask on. Walls rebuilt.
"Stay alert," she said. "Things are about to get worse."
She walked away before I could respond.
I stayed there, listening to her footsteps fade, understanding something new and unsettling.
The Saints weren't the only threat.
And Cager wasn't just fighting enemies anymore.
She was fighting herself.