Page 67 of Thexan

“That doesn’t mean I trust him,” he said.

“I’m not asking you to,” I replied. “Not yet.”

“And I’m not promising this won’t become a problem.”

“I know.”

His attention shifted again, not as sharply this time, more measured.

“But I do trust you,” he said.

The words didn’t fix anything.

But they mattered.

“Then let me prove you’re not wrong,” I said.

Tanner gave a short nod, stepping back just enough to ease the immediate pressure without removing it entirely.

“This isn’t over,” he said.

“No,” I agreed. “It’s not.”

He turned then, the others around him shifting with him, the tension dispersing just enough that the settlement could start pretending things were normal again.

They weren’t.

They wouldn’t be.

I stood there for a moment longer, letting the weight of what had just happened settle into place before I turned back toward the infirmary.

Thexan hadn’t moved.

He didn’t need to.

I closed the distance between us, aware of how differently everything felt now that the truth was no longer contained inside these walls.

“That went better than it could have,” I said.

“It did,” Thexan replied. “Tanner chose restraint.”

“He chose me,” I said quietly. “For now.”

Thexan’s gaze sharpened on my face. “You believe his trust is conditional.”

“Everyone’s trust is conditional when survival is involved.”

He considered that, then inclined his head slightly. “That is accurate.”

“That doesn’t mean it went well.”

“No,” he said. “It means the conflict has been delayed, not resolved.”

I let out a quiet breath, because that was exactly what it felt like. Not victory. Not acceptance. A pause.

“They’re going to watch you,” I said.

“They should.”