Rex crossed the distance between them in two predatory, efficient strides. Before Lilith could launch a second verbal assault, he leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead.
It was a gesture of profound, unspoken intimacy, the kind of silent communication used by those who have moved past the need for the clumsy medium of words. It was a command, an apology, and an affirmation all wrapped into a single, fleeting touch.
Lilith's expression fractured. For a microsecond, the mask of the formidable liaison crumbled, revealing a whirlwind of emotions: indignation, a flash of raw vulnerability, and a deep, simmering heat that she fought to suppress.
"Go back," Rex commanded, his voice dropping into that low, irresistible frequency that brooked no argument. "Pavellia needs the confirmation on the second stratum contact's boundary agreement."
"The reconstruction won't wait for your grievances."
