Aleksander didn't break his casual posture, slinging the rifle strap comfortably over his shoulder as he leaned in slightly.
"Keep looking at me," Aleksander whispered, his lips barely moving. "Act like we are discussing patrol routes. I am going to leave an illusion of myself standing right here, and I will take Dax out."
Bellamy's hands stalled on the magazine for a fraction of a second. He looked up, his eyes scanning Aleksander's completely calm face. The reality of the tactical situation hit him.
"Are you going to kill him?" Bellamy asked, his voice low and tight. He was no stranger to violence, but cold-blooded execution was a line they hadn't officially crossed yet.
Aleksander met his gaze, his dark eyes completely devoid of hesitation. He gave a single, definitive nod.
"We cannot afford to keep him as a prisoner," Aleksander answered ruthlessly. "Dax was locked up on the Ark for murder. He is not a confused kid making a mistake; he is a predator. And more importantly, he is an assassin who will not stop until you are dead. If we let him live, he remains a lethal liability to this pack."
Bellamy swallowed hard. He looked at the thick tree line where the assassin was waiting, and then back to Aleksander. It was a brutal calculus, but it was the only math that kept him breathing.
Bellamy gave a short, tight nod. "Do it."
Aleksander smirked faintly, a predatory glint flashing in his eyes. "Keep talking."
With a subtle, seamless shift of energy, Aleksander tapped into his Fey magic. To Bellamy, and to everyone else in the clearing, nothing changed. Aleksander was still standing there, nodding thoughtfully at whatever Bellamy was saying.
But in reality, it was a flawless, hollow projection of light and sound.
The real Aleksander had already cast a cloaking spell over himself. Shrouded in absolute, perfect invisibility, he slipped away from the group, his footsteps magically silenced as he moved swiftly toward the dense brush.
Fifty yards away, crouching low in the thick ferns, Dax had his eyes locked on the supply depot. His hand was white-knuckled around the grip of a salvaged metal shiv, waiting for the perfect moment when Bellamy drifted away from the group.
He was completely focused on the illusion of Aleksander and Bellamy talking. He never heard the rustle of leaves behind him. He never felt the shift in the air.
With terrifying, silent speed, the cloaking spell dissolved just as Aleksander dropped into a crouch directly behind him.
Before Dax's brain could even register a threat, Aleksander struck.
A heavy, gloved hand clamped violently over Dax's mouth, snapping his head back and entirely cutting off his scream. Aleksander's immense, magically enhanced strength easily overpowered the older boy, pinning his arms and dragging him backward off balance.
With his free hand, Aleksander drew the sleek, curved karambit from his belt. The dark metal flashed in the dappled sunlight for a fraction of a second.
With cold, surgical precision, Aleksander drew the blade across Dax's throat.
Dax thrashed violently, his eyes bulging in sheer terror and shock, but Aleksander held him in an iron grip. The struggle lasted only seconds before the assassin's body went completely limp, his life bleeding out rapidly into the damp earth.
Aleksander didn't let the body drop loudly. He lowered Dax gently to the forest floor, wiping the blood from his karambit on the boy's jacket before seamlessly sliding the weapon back into its sheath.
He stood up, looking down at the dead assassin with absolute indifference. The loose end was officially cut.
The Dropship, Camp Jaha
Back behind the safety of the wooden walls, the camp was relatively quiet. Most of the delinquents were busy fortifying the perimeter with Aleksander's warded stones, leaving the interior of the dropship to the engineers.
Raven was entirely in her element. She sat cross-legged on the metal floor, her grease-stained fingers rapidly sorting through the fried circuitry of the communication array. Monty was kneeling right beside her, holding a makeshift soldering iron and looking thoroughly impressed by how fast she worked.
"Okay, the main bypass is completely shot," Raven muttered, pushing a stray lock of hair out of her face with the back of her wrist. "But if we strip the copper from the secondary solar reserves, we might be able to manually bridge the receiver. Hand me the wire strippers?"
Monty patted his pockets, then sighed. "Left them in my tent. Give me two seconds, I'll be right back."
"Make it one," Raven teased without looking up from the circuit board.
Monty jogged down the ramp, disappearing into the bustling camp.
Raven went back to twisting a pair of frayed wires together, entirely absorbed in the puzzle. A moment later, heavy footsteps echoed on the metal ramp.
"That was fast," Raven said, holding her hand out for the tool.
"I'm pretty fast when I want to be," a cocky voice replied.
Raven paused. She looked up. It wasn't Monty.
Connor was leaning casually against the doorframe of the dropship, his arms crossed and a smug, lingering smile on his face. He looked her up and down, making zero effort to hide his interest.
"You're the mechanic who dropped from the sky, right?" Connor asked, taking a slow step inside. "I'm Connor. Gotta say, it's nice having a new face down here. Especially one that looks like yours."
Raven stared at him for a flat, unamused second. She had spent her entire life on the Ark dealing with arrogant guards and entitled Alpha Station guys. She wasn't about to entertain a teenager with a bad pickup line on a radioactive planet.
She dropped her hand and went right back to her wires. "Look, Connor, I'm busy trying to get us a lifeline to the Ark. So unless you magically turned into a pair of wire strippers, you're in my light."
Connor chuckled, entirely unfazed. He took another step closer, leaning over her workspace. "Come on, all work and no play? The world ended a hundred years ago. You just got here. You should let someone show you around. I could give you the VIP tour of the woods."
Raven didn't even look up this time. She just gave a sharp, dismissive sigh.
"Not interested," Raven said flatly, pulling a wire taut with a sharp snap. "I have a boyfriend."
Connor raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Who's the lucky guy?"
"Finn," Raven answered, a note of fierce, protective pride slipping into her voice. "Finn Collins."
Connor froze. The smug, flirtatious smile instantly melted off his face, replaced by a dark, mocking scoff. He leaned back, shaking his head in absolute disbelief.
"Spacewalker?" Connor laughed, the sound bitter and mean. "You're Finn's girlfriend?"
Raven's hands stopped moving. She finally looked up, her dark eyes narrowing at his tone. "Yeah. Problem?"
"No problem," Connor said, holding his hands up in mock surrender, though the cruel smirk returned to his lips. "It's just... funny. Because your boyfriend sure hasn't been acting like a guy who left a girl up in space."
Raven's jaw tightened. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about Clarke," Connor stated bluntly, thoroughly enjoying the sudden tension in the room. "Ever since we hit the dirt, Finn has been glued to the Princess. Shadowing her, making goo-goo eyes at her, holding her hand in the woods. Hell, half the camp thought they were hooking up."
Connor leaned down, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial, toxic whisper. "He hasn't spent five minutes away from her since we landed. So, if you're his girlfriend... he definitely forgot to mention it to anyone down here."
Raven's heart gave a sudden, painful jolt against her ribs. Her mind immediately flashed to the woods last night—how Finn had been acting towards Clarke, also he saw Clarke looking at them with confusion, when she told Finn was her boyfriend.
But Raven Reyes was tough. She absolutely refused to let some smug jerk see her bleed.
"Get out," Raven ordered, her voice dangerously quiet and completely steady.
Connor chuckled, stepping back toward the ramp. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger. Just thought you should know the ground rules down here."
With a final, condescending smirk, Connor turned and sauntered out of the dropship.
The moment his footsteps faded, the fierce, unbothered mask on Raven's face completely crumbled. She stared down at the fried circuit board in her lap, her vision blurring just a fraction.
He immediately tried to attach himself to Clarke. Aleksander's brutal psychological assessment, spoken just hours ago on the upper deck, was completely unknown to Raven. Yet, the exact same reality was now crashing down on her.
Raven aggressively wiped at her eyes, angry at herself for even entertaining the thought. "He's lying," she whispered fiercely to the empty room, grabbing the wires again. "Finn wouldn't do that."
But as her hands violently twisted the copper, the heavy, suffocating seed of doubt was firmly planted, taking root exactly where Aleksander knew it would.