The cold wind bit at Anya's face as she walked beside Damian, her steps measured to match his. The camp loomed ahead, a dark mass against the pale snow, the sounds of soldiers moving, equipment clanking, and radio chatter filling the air. She kept her head low, eyes sharp, always watching, always calculating.
Her new role as Damian's girlfriend—though fake—had opened doors she had never anticipated. It was a risk, but the intel she could gain by being close to him was worth it. She had to keep playing the part, however, and it was not without its complications. Every glance, every touch had to feel natural, her every word carefully chosen. She wasn't just a spy anymore; she was part of the camp's web. The only difference was she knew how to move in the shadows.
Damian, however, was not an easy puzzle to solve. She could sense his wariness, the way his eyes flicked over her when he thought she wasn't looking. He didn't trust easily, and Anya didn't blame him for it. He'd grown up in the kind of world where trust was a luxury few could afford. It made him unpredictable. But that was just another piece of the game.
As they walked through the camp, Anya couldn't help but notice how Damian's presence affected everyone around him. The soldiers straightened their backs, the air of authority shifting with his every step. They were used to him, perhaps even a little afraid of him. And as much as he might try to remain distant, there was no denying the pull he had on people.
They passed by the high-ranking officer's tent, a structure far larger than the others, with armed guards standing watch. Anya's heart rate quickened. The officer was always lurking in the background, his cold eyes scanning, always looking for weaknesses to exploit. She had to be careful. Her real mission was far from over.
Damian stopped just in front of the officer's tent, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face Anya. "I need to check something inside. Wait here."
Anya nodded, keeping her expression neutral. "Of course."
As soon as Damian was out of sight, she took a sharp turn toward a shadowed corner of the camp, her footsteps muffled by the thick snow. She moved quickly, the familiar weight of the hidden blade at her side a constant reminder of the life she led. This was no place for hesitation.
Inside the officer's tent, the officer sat at a desk, papers spread out before him, his gaze focused on the information in front of him. He looked up, his eyes catching Anya's as she entered without knocking. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Well, well, if it isn't the 'girlfriend' of Graves," the officer said, his voice cold. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Anya's lips curled into a subtle smile, though her eyes remained sharp. "I wanted to ask about the upcoming mission. I heard there's been a shift in the plan."
The officer leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping against the wooden surface. "I'm afraid you've been misinformed. The plan is classified."
"Oh, I'm sure," she said smoothly. "But you see, I think it's important for Damian to know exactly what he's walking into. He's always so eager to prove himself."
The officer stared at her for a long moment, his gaze calculating. "You think you can manipulate him?" he asked, his tone darkening.
Anya tilted her head, maintaining eye contact, but for the first time, uncertainty crept in. Had she pushed too far? Was she playing too obvious a game?
"I think I'm the one who keeps him grounded," she replied after a beat. "He might be a soldier, but he's human. He needs someone to remind him of that."
The officer's smirk faltered slightly, his fingers twitching in irritation. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed—low, almost amused. "Be careful, Miss Petrova," he said, a warning laced in his voice. "It's dangerous to believe your own illusions."
Anya's stomach tensed, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she nodded with a knowing smile and turned on her heel.
As she left the officer's tent, her mind raced. She had planted a seed of doubt, but something about his reaction unsettled her. Had he seen through her? Was he testing her now? He didn't like her, but worse—he didn't underestimate her. That was dangerous.
Moments later, she met Damian again, her face calm. He looked at her, his brow furrowed slightly, but he didn't ask any questions. Instead, he nodded curtly.
"Ready to go?" he asked.
Anya nodded, falling into step beside him. The tension between them had shifted, though she couldn't quite place how. She could feel the weight of the officer's gaze on her back, but it wasn't the officer she needed to worry about now. It was Damian. And she knew he was watching her, even if he didn't yet understand why.