Erion's office was bathed in sunlight when she was brought in. Evah sat stiff in her chair, her glare sharp enough to cut.
Erion entered moments later, folders in hand, his grin infuriatingly casual.
"Coffee? Tea?" he offered, as though she hadn't been dragged here.
"Don't play dumb. You had me kidnapped," she spat.
"Escorted," he corrected lightly. "And for your safety."
Two-faced traitor.
"Also" he continued, "I didn't kidnap you. I'm here to help you."
Erion stepped closer, flashing a practiced smile. "I apologize that you had to be escorted here, but it's for your safety. I know the trauma of what happened is still with you. Processing it will take time."
His voice softened, but Evah wasn't fooled. That warmth was nothing more than a mask.
"We'll cover any therapy you need. Like Miss Iekami, you'll be issued a card for medical assistance."
Yuka had mentioned that. Still, Evah hadn't expected the same treatment when her own injuries had been minor. Her arms crossed, her expression cold, daring him to think kindness could buy her.
"But more importantly…"
Erion walked to a shelf, plucked out a folder, and flipped it open. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, making the black cover gleam against the room's polished wood and glass.
"Evallithyia Arsenault," he read, pacing slowly. "Twenty-five years old. One younger brother. A mother in Philpan. Graduated top of your class. Eight Originator convention wins. Impressive."
His tone carried no admiration—only sarcasm.
"Worked five years at a private company. Famous enough. Yet…" He flicked his eyes up at her, mocking. "No promotion? Five years wasted?"
Evah's jaw tightened. Shut up. You don't know anything about me.
But he kept going. "Why waste your talent there? Your inventions could've saved lives. Instead, you buried them under bureaucracy. Overshadowed by someone richer, maybe?"
The lopsided smile tugging his lips made her stomach twist.
"I checked the records of your early designs. Brilliant work. And then? Silence. A shame."
Her blood boiled. "Are you complimenting me or insulting me? Pick one!"
"That depends on how you take it," he replied smoothly.
She pushed back from her chair. "That's it. I'm leaving."
A quiet click sealed the door behind her. She spun, pulling the handle, but it didn't budge.
Erion leaned back against his desk, arms folded. "Some perks of being in charge."
"Erion!" she snapped, fury sparking.
"Yes, Evah?" His voice oozed amusement, the way he rolled her name across his tongue sending an infuriating jolt through her.
Her heart stuttered. No, no, no! He's faking it. Stop being stupid!
"Don't call me that," she bit out, crossing her arms.
"Why not? You've been calling my name since day one."
Her mind reeled back to the warehouse, to every moment she'd shouted for him. She swallowed hard. Did I? I did…
He stepped closer, his tone shifting—less mockery, more command. "Here's the deal. I'm offering you a position on the research team. That means your dream becomes reality. You'll originate for the Grand Covenant Order. Software. Tools. Antidotes. All funded, all resourced. Best compensation you'll ever get."
He held out the folder, her name gleaming on its cover.
Evah froze. Someone actually wants me? The thought struck harder than she liked. The Order was dangerous, everyone knew it. Yet she couldn't ignore the chance staring her in the face.
"And," Erion added softly, "you'll work directly on the antidote for your friend. You know as well as I do—medicine and therapy won't fix her."
Her chest squeezed. He's right… Yuka won't recover like this. Hearing him confirm it felt like a cruel truth she couldn't argue.
But then whispers from her old office echoed back—dark rumors of the Order's violence. Rape. Murder. Disappearances. Things she used to brush off as gossip. Now they clung to her memory like chains.
He just wants to use me. But why me?
"Any reason you're hesitating?" Erion's voice snapped her back. Sunlight caught in his blue eyes, sharp enough to pierce her.
She clenched her fists. Why won't you stop pressing?!
"Take it," he said, thrusting the folder toward her. His voice was cool, steady, almost disappointed. "Read it. Think it through. Or is risk-taking just something you've never learned?"
Her temper snapped. "No. I don't need it. I'm refusing!" her voice cutting through the air. Am I going to regret this? Her mind screamed in panic. I actually need a job!
His eyes widened briefly, then narrowed. "Wow. You really enjoy wasting your talent."
"I don't want to work under an unapologetic traitor like you!"
Her chest heaved with fury, but beneath it a bitter voice whispered: Yup. You're too messed up.
The memory of how Erion's hands hadn't even flinched in the face of danger—how calm he'd been, even knowing they could have been killed—flashed through her mind.
"You wanted to leave Yuka in that warehouse!" she yelled, finally letting the wound spill open.
"That's protocol." His tone was calm. "Save the life you can." He sighed, the faintest crack in his composure. "She's your friend. I understand. I apologize." He bowed slightly, too smooth, too practiced.
He's mocking me.
"And you locked me out like a criminal after everything!"
"That was also protocol. We gave you the best care available." Another slight bow. "If that wasn't enough, I apologize." This time, Erion bowed his head just a fraction, the gesture stiff and too natural, as if he'd performed it a thousand times before.
Her anger burned hotter. Stop acting like you care.
"You kissed me, you arrogant idiot!" The words exploded out of her, louder than she'd meant. Her face flamed as silence thickened.
Then she saw it—the corner of his lips twitching.
Not denial. Not surprise.
Wait... did he just smirk?!
Evah's heart skipped violently. That… that was not the reaction she expected.