Chapter 203

Chapter 203
Ajax’s POV
I thought the war had taken everything it could from me.
Turns out it still had one last blade to twist.
I was in the lower armory when I felt it. That prickle along my spine. The sense of being watched that had kept me alive since my teens. My hands were busy stripping a Glock, movements automatic, muscle memory doing the work while my mind replayed the same loop of violence and smoke and screaming alarms.
We were alive. My family was alive. That should have been enough.
But peace never came quietly. It crept. It stalked. It waited until you dropped your guard.
Footsteps echoed behind me.
Not rushed. Not aggressive. Careful.
I didn’t turn.
“You’ve got nerve,” I said flatly.
She stopped a few meters away. I could feel her presence like gravity.
“I know,” Selin said.
Hearing her voice again was like reopening a wound I had forced shut with sheer will. Calm. Controlled. Too steady for someone who had been a lie wrapped in skin.
I finished reassembling the weapon before I faced her. If I looked too soon, I wasn’t sure what I’d do.
She stood there with her hands visible, no weapons, no guards. Dark hair pulled back. Face pale but composed. A faint bruise still shadowed her cheekbone. Proof she hadn’t walked away untouched.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I said.
“I know,” she replied again. “But I needed to come.”
That word. Needed. It scraped against something raw in my chest.
“You disappeared,” I said. “You vanished when everything burned.”
“I was extracted.”
I laughed once, sharp and bitter. “Always so precise with your language.”
She didn’t flinch. “You deserve the truth.”
I stepped closer before I realized I was moving. “You had weeks. Months. Years. You stood beside us. Ate at our table. Learned our routines. Learned my tells.”
Her eyes flickered. Just once.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“That’s the thing about betrayal,” I snapped. “Intent doesn’t matter.”
Silence settled between us. Heavy. Pressurized.
“I’m not here to justify what I did,” Selin said quietly. “I’m here to own it.”
I crossed my arms. “Start talking.”
She took a breath. Slow. Controlled. Assassin calm. “I was sent to observe. To embed. To report. The Broker wanted insight into the Vasilios structure long before he moved openly.”
My jaw tightened.
“I didn’t know the full scope at first,” she continued. “By the time I did, I was already in too deep.”
“You always knew enough to lie,” I said.
“Yes,” she agreed. “I did.”
That honesty hit harder than denial ever could.
“Why come back now,” I asked. “The war is over. The Broker is dead. You could disappear and no one would ever find you.”
“Because you would still be living with the wrong truth,” she said.
I stared at her. “Which is.”
“That everything between us was fake.”
My breath stalled.
“It wasn’t,” she said softly. “Not for me.”
Anger flared. Hot and instinctive. “You expect me to believe that.”
“I expect you to remember,” she replied. “The nights we stayed up mapping routes and forgot time existed. The way you always stood between me and exits without realizing it. The way you trusted me.”
I looked away. Because she was right. Because memory is a cruel weapon.
“You used that trust,” I said.
“Yes,” she whispered. “And I hate myself for it.”
The words were quiet but they cracked something open. Selin didn’t hate herself lightly. She wasn’t built that way.
“I left when I did because staying would have gotten you killed,” she continued. “The Broker knew you were getting close to the truth. If I stayed, I would have been forced to lead him straight to you.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me,” I growled.
“I know,” she said. “But I would do it again.”
That stopped me cold.
She met my eyes. No flinch. No fear. Just brutal honesty.
“I would rather you hate me than bury you.”
I exhaled slowly, trying to rein in the storm in my chest.
“So what,” I said. “You want forgiveness.”
“No,” Selin said. “I want accountability.”
I frowned. “Meaning.”
“Meaning I’m done hiding,” she said. “I’ll answer every question. Face every consequence. Leave if you tell me to. Stay if you don’t. But I won’t disappear again.”
I studied her. The spy. The weapon. The woman who had stood at my side while the world collapsed.
“You broke something in me,” I said quietly.
“I know,” she replied.
“You made me doubt my instincts.”
“I know.”
“You made me question every damn memory.”
“I know.”
My voice dropped. “But you also warned us about the southern breach. You delayed the tunnel assault. You misdirected two of the Broker’s kill teams.”
Her throat worked. “I did what I could without exposing myself.”
I stepped closer until there was barely space between us.
“You played both sides,” I said.
“Yes.”
“And still came back.”
“Yes.”
I searched her face for deception. Found none. Only regret. And something dangerously close to hope.
“I don’t know if I can trust you,” I admitted.
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” she said. “Trust isn’t owed. It’s earned.”
I turned away, dragging a hand through my hair. My heart was pounding harder now than it ever had in a firefight.
“You loved me,” I said quietly.
She inhaled sharply. “Yes.”
The simplicity of it knocked the breath from my lungs.
“I don’t know what I feel,” I said.
“That’s okay,” she answered. “I’m not asking for anything.”
I faced her again.
“You don’t get a clean slate,” I said. “You don’t get protection. And you don’t get secrets.”
She nodded. “I wouldn’t accept them.”
“And if you betray us again,” I continued, voice cold, “I will be the one who ends you.”
She met my gaze. “That’s fair.”
Silence stretched.
Then, against my better judgment, I said it.
“Stay.”
Her eyes widened.
“Not as before,” I clarified. “Not as anything. Just… stay. Where I can see you. Where the truth doesn’t rot in the dark.”
Her breath hitched. “I can do that.”
I turned back to the weapons bench, needing the distance.
“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” I said.
“I know,” Selin replied softly.
But when I glanced over my shoulder a moment later, she was still there.
And for the first time since the war ended, the silence didn’t feel quite so heavy.