Ezra couldn't help but frown at that. The idea of being under their watch didn't sit right with him. Seriously, was he now some kind of walking science project? A pet monster they could poke and prod whenever they pleased?
He bit back the urge to argue with them. This was still better than being locked in a cell or dissected in some lab. Barely.
"Fine," he said, his voice flat as he shot Mireille and Arya a look, "Babysitters it is."
"War-Lady Mireille. Agent Arya. You will be tasked with overseeing Zaeryn's movements outside the Citadel," Valerius stated firmly.
Arya, professional to the bone, simply nodded. Of course she didn't hesitate. This was her job, after all, duty first, no questions, no complaints.
But Mireille?
There was a change in her expression. Just a slight one, barely noticeable, but Ezra saw it was there. Her eyes briefly narrowed, as if silently questioning why she of all people was being assigned babysitting duty. Not that she said a word. Her face quickly settled back into its usual unreadable calm.
Still, Ezra noticed.
Of course he noticed.
And Mireille knew that.
The corner of her mouth twitched for a fraction of a second, like she might say something—but didn't. Instead, she turned her head slightly, acknowledging the order with a crisp, "Understood."
Ezra let out a small sigh. So this was his life now, shadowed by two elite agents like he was some unpredictable bomb that could go off at any moment.
Perfect. He wondered if he gave them just a small reason, would they neutralize him? He didn't want to think about it too much.
After that, Ezra left the citadel at last. But of course, nothing could ever be simple.
Just as he was about to leave, Commander Charlotte Thorne had raised objections—loud ones. She stood there in the middle of the lounge, arms crossed, voice sharp and commanding as she listed every possible risk. "We're letting a potential Fade walk out of the Citadel," she'd snapped. "You're gambling with the safety of every district."
Ezra had rolled his eyes more than once during her speech, though wisely kept his mouth shut.
But in the end, neither Lysara nor Lady Valerius budged. Their decision was final. Whatever threats or doubts Thorne had were met with cold silence and authority sharper than any blade.
So he walked. Free, technically. Surveilled, absolutely.
They were transported back home by Mireille and Arya's cruiser. Ezra stared out the window the whole ride, his thoughts too tangled to speak.
Sage sat beside him, legs crossed, arms folded watching him, but not pressing. Ysmeine sat on his left-hand side, holding his hand in hers and caressing it.
Mireille rode in silence up front, with Arya.
The cruiser pulled into the docking bay of the home, and the group stepped out into the cool evening air. As they approached the door, the entrance opened automatically—and standing there was someone who made Ezra smile at her sight.
A woman, about Sage's age, stood waiting with arms loosely folded. Her posture was relaxed yet elegant, every movement effortlessly refined.
She was stunning to look at. Pale grey eyes framed by long lashes, sharp cheekbones unmistakably inherited from Ysmeine, and an air of poise that could belong to a noble daughter… or a forgotten goddess. Her beauty wasn't loud. It was precise. Her figure was sculpted.
This was Aeris, Ezra's older sister. Not by blood, but anyone who saw them together would never guess. She was twenty-one and carried herself with effortless swagger.
She was dressed in a form-fitting crop top that clung to her toned torso, the neckline dipping just enough to show off the cleavage. Her lounge shorts were high-cut and hugged her hips, showing off long, smooth legs and a confidence that said she didn't care who stared she expected it.
Her hips swayed as she moved. Her dark hair was tousled in effortless waves, and her cool grey eyes carried Ysmeine's steel, but none of her restraint.
Aeris wasn't just attractive. One would say was dangerously attractive. The kind of beauty that made people forget why they walked into the room in the first place.
"Aeris," Ezra greeted, voice warming with familiarity.
"Zaeryn," she replied, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "You're in one piece. That's good."
Her gaze then shifted toward Mireille and Arya. The smile faded just a little, replaced by something cooler. Civil, but not exactly welcoming.
"Welcome, Agents," she said. The title sounded formal, like something she was saying because she had to. Well, that was expected, as she had been briefed, of course. Ysmeine had already filled her in. Zaeryn was in custody, but he was now returning home… but not alone.
Her eyes flicked back to Ezra. "So… what now?" she asked flatly. "He's a prisoner in his own house?"
Arya offered a polite, professional smile. "No. He's free. We're just here to ensure that freedom remains safe, for everyone."
Aeris let out a soft scoff, one brow arching, lips twitching like she was holding back a sharper retort. "Right. Sounds like a glorified collar to me."
Sage, never one to hold back, crossed her arms. She glanced at Arya and Mireille, then back at Aeris. "Sure. And I'm guessing they brought cookies and not sidearms."
Ezra smirked faintly but said nothing.
Having Aeris defend him always felt good. She'd taken her big-sister role seriously from day one, and she never let anyone forget it.
Protective didn't even begin to cover it.
He couldn't count how many people had regretted picking on him back at school just for being a male. Aeris made sure of that.
Mireille's expression didn't change, though her eyes flicked briefly to Aeris, then to Sage, as if mentally filing both of them as potential complications.
"I'll show you to your rooms," Aeris said, spinning on her heel, her long hair swaying with the movement. Her voice was honeyed but cool. "Make yourselves at home, I guess."
"There's no need," Mireille began, her voice professional but firm. "We're not here to stay. We'll keep watch and—"
"Thank you," Arya interrupted smoothly, stepping forward before Mireille could finish. "We'd appreciate a temporary base of operations."
Ezra raised a brow at that, catching the quiet tension between the two women.
Without missing a beat, Aeris gestured for them to follow. "Right this way."
Mireille glanced once at Ezra before turning to follow.
Once they were out of sight, Ysmeine placed a gentle hand on Ezra's shoulder. "You should get some rest," she said quietly. "I'll inform the Academy you won't be coming in today."
Ezra didn't argue, because he did feel like sleeping.
"Thanks," he said, glancing toward the stairs.
Sage took his hand again, intertwining her fingers with his.
"Come on," she said with a soft smirk. "You look like you're about five minutes away from collapsing."
Ezra didn't deny it.
Then he left, Sage by his side, the doors sliding shut behind them with a soft hiss.
Ysmeine watched them go, without moving . She stood there for a moment longer, making sure she was completely alone, and then turned and tapped a command into her wrist device. The glass on her comm lit up, a secure channel blinking to life.
[Encrypted Transmission: Maximum Level Clearance]
To: Princess Athea
She typed a single line: "Call me, something's happened. It concerns your son."
The screen dimmed. Message sent.
And Ysmeine stood in silence, then she let out a sigh and sat down on the seat.
Meanwhile inside Ezra room. The door shut behind him, Sage walked Infront of him.
Ezra watched her as she walked to the bed. And he couldn't resist it, he reached over and wrapped his arms across her waist and pulled her closer.
"Hey, aren't you tired?" Sage asked with a playful giggle, leaning back into his embrace.
Ezra moved his hand from her waist, tracing the smooth skin of her midriff as his fingers drifted higher, brushing the soft curve beneath her crop top. "Not too tired for this," he murmured, his lips finding the tender skin behind her ear. The scent of her—sweet and intoxicating—filled his senses, pushing away the lingering tension of the day.
She shivered—a delicious tremor running through her. "Oh, really?" Her voice dropped to a low purr as she tilted her head, inviting him to deepen the kiss along her neck.
Ezra let his hand roam freely over her body, exploring every curve.
Weary from the day's ordeal, his body now burned with a different kind of hunger, a desperate need for the comfort and distraction only she could offer.
His hands moved to the hem of her top, slow and deliberate as he eased it upward.
She wasn't wearing a bra; so the moment he removed her top, her full, supple breasts were revealed, her pink nipples taut and beckoning, bouncing lightly with each movement.
Sage arched her back slightly, helping him completely remove the fabric, a soft gasp escaped her lips as the cool air brushed her skin.
Ezra cupped her breast, pinching her nipple gently, drawing another moan from her lips. "You know how sensitive I am there," she whispered.
He turned her fully in his arms, her violet eyes dark with desire locking onto his.
He paused, taking in the breathtaking sight of her perfect figure. Every time he saw her naked, it never failed to leave him in awe. Sage was stunning, irresistible. And she was his.