Page 73 of Operation: Defiance

Chapter Nineteen

Raine

For a few seconds, I’m nowhere. Then sensation clicks in—weight, warmth, the faint pull in my neck where I slept wrong. Uncomfortable, but not catastrophic.

There’s no panic this time. Just…disorientation.

I breathe through it, counting silently, until I can inventory what’s real.

Safe house.

Bed.

Asher.

Food.

Choice.

The room is dim and quiet. Too quiet. I strain to hear the whir of the cameras, the endless hum of the ventilation system. Footsteps. Anything.

It’s warm in a way that still feels suspicious, but not actively threatening.

I turn my head carefully. Asher stands near the chair. The window shade is up. Rain streaks the glass, blurring the lights outside.

It’s dark.

My heart stutters—not because I expected morning, but because I can tell it’s not. Time has edges again. Day and night are no longer…theoretical.

Day. Days. They had me for days. My brain reaches for a number and comes up empty.

Asher sets a mug on the small table by the chair and turns, hands loose and relaxed at his sides.

“Forty minutes,” he says, anticipating the question before I can ask. “Give or take. You drifted. Restless.”

The ache behind my eyes pulses. Without thinking, I lift my hand. But my fingers are too clumsy and brush my temple instead.

Something sticky catches.

The table.

Strapped down.

Hands pressing electrodes to my skin. Shoving a thick rubber guard between my teeth.

My lungs seize. I scrape at my temple with my palm, catching hair, smearing the adhesive, making everything worse.

“Raine.”

Asher’s voice cuts cleanly through the spiral.

I choke back a sound and force my hand down. Something sharp and rough spikes, but it doesn’t drag me away completely.

“Can you look at me?” he asks, giving me an anchor.

I do.

“You’re safe,” he continues. “You’re not back there. Nothing’s touching you. Nothing’s going to.”