Until the Moon Calls Us Home

She chuckled and then glanced at him, eyes glinting with something teasing, wary, amused. "What are you making?"

"Deer chow mein."

Her nose crinkled. "Is that even a thing?"

"It is now," he said, tossing onions into the pan. "Options are limited."

She smiled softly.

Then, after a moment, she said, "My mom used to call me Moon."

The shift in tone was subtle but deep.

Zayden slowed. "Why?"

"She said… 'If I'm ever lost, I'll find the moon again.'" Her voice was almost a whisper. "It was her way of saying no matter how far apart we were, she'd always look for me. That she'd know me. Even in the dark."

Zayden turned to look at her fully now. "Is she ?"

"Gone." A pause. "A long time ago."

Her fingers stopped moving, and she looked down at the curled tomato skin on the cutting board. Her thoughts were clearly somewhere else.

"I used to hate that nickname," she said with a dry laugh. "But now... sometimes it's the only part of her I still hear."

Zayden's voice was low. "Moon suits you."

She looked up. His gaze was steady and hard to read, but it was not cold. The atmosphere around them felt quiet and tense, like a wire pulled tight that was ready to hum.

"I don't know why I told you that," she murmured.

He stepped a little closer. "Maybe you needed someone to hear it."

They stood close together in silence for a moment. The only sounds were the meat sizzling in the pan and the wind whispering outside.

She looked away first and went back to her task, her fingers moving again. But the warmth stayed between them.

Twenty minutes later, they sat down to eat, each with a steaming bowl in front of them. The cabin felt different it didn't feel safe, at least not yet.

But it felt closer to something that could be.

Zayden thought that maybe, just maybe, even lost things could find their way home. Even broken things could follow the light.

Until the moon calls us home.

After finishing their meal in silence her bowl still half-full and his completely empty Zayden stood up and went back to the stove to scrape any remaining food from the pan.

Zeynep looked over from her seat, wiping her hands on a cloth. "Are you still hungry?" she asked.

He shook his head. "It's for Leo."

She blinked, surprised. "He's here?"

Zayden didn't respond right away. Instead, he moved carefully, as if he didn't want to answer her question or let her into something he wasn't ready for. He took an old metal plate from the cupboard, filled it with a good amount of chow mein, and wrapped it in a cloth. Then he added a piece of stale bread and the sweeter of the last two apples they had been saving.

Zeynep watched every movement. Not suspicious just… curious. Measuring.

She asked again, a little softer this time, "Who is he? Leo. Is he… your friend?"

Zayden paused for a moment, holding the cloth still in his hand. He faced away from her, but she noticed his posture change, subtle yet tense.

"Something like that," he said finally, voice low.

Zeynep tilted her head, studying him. "You don't strike me as someone who keeps many friends."

He gave a soft grunt at that, a sound caught between agreement and dismissal. "I don't."

"But you trust him," she added, not quite a question.

Zayden turned slightly and met her gaze over his shoulder. His expression was hard to read. His eyes were shadowed, and his mouth was set in a straight line that suggested he was telling the truth but would not explain further.

"I trust what he's capable of," he said.

That wasn't the same as trust, but for a man like Zayden, it was probably as close as he could get.

Zeynep leaned on the table with her elbow and rested her chin in her hand. "He must be important, then. You're giving him the good apple."

Zayden let out a quiet breath with a hint of amusement in his eyes, though his face didn't change much. "He'd be mad if I gave him the mushy one."

She smiled, more to herself than to him. Watching him care without saying it felt real but also lonely.

"You act like you don't care," she said casually. "But you care more than you show."

 That made him stop.

He stared at her for a long moment, trying to figure out if her words were meant to comfort or threaten him. Then he looked away and picked up the wrapped plate.

"Don't tell anyone," he said dryly as he walked toward the back hallway.

She chuckled softly, shaking her head while gathering the bowls. "Your secret's safe."

As she rinsed the dishes, her eyes stayed on the hallway where he had gone.

Zayden was a man with many walls, and tonight he had let her see through one. Now she wondered what else he was hiding behind his silence and who else might be in the dark.

Zayden walked down the narrow hallway, his boots quiet on the wood floor. He stopped at a hidden panel on the far wall. With a soft click, the wall opened, showing a steep tunnel. The warmth of the cabin faded as he entered the colder stone and steel tunnel.

A blue light on the security lock scanned his eye and then his fingerprint. The door opened with a soft hiss.

Zayden went down to the dark base, where steam from food rose in the chilly air.

At the bottom, Leo sat at a metal desk next to an old communications rig. He was working with wires and dials while notes were scattered across an open folder. He looked up when he heard the door.

Zayden silently held out a plate of food.

Leo arched a brow. "Didn't know you were in the mood to play house."

Zayden set the plate down. "Eat."

Leo pulled the cloth back and took in the food, steam still curling into the cold air.

He muttered something under his breath half thanks, half sarcasm then dug in.

While he ate, he said, "She's either hiding something important or running from someone worse. I'll start looking into it tonight, quietly."

Zayden didn't answer right away.

He just watched the older man eat, jaw ticking, mind already running down a dozen silent roads.

Then he said, voice low:

"Whatever it is... I want to know everything."

Leo took another bite and chewed carefully. The base was dimly lit, and the walls hum softly from the powerful generators behind the reinforced steel. In the corner, surveillance monitors showed static feeds of the edges of forests, thermal scans, and unmarked roads.

Leo looked up at Zayden, showing a hint of approval in his eyes.

"I thought you would," he said.

Zayden stayed where he was, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He scanned the edge of the desk, where scattered files and schematics lay partly exposed.

"Any word from the London front?" Zayden asked finally, his voice unreadable.

Leo nodded slowly. "The offshore accounts are still holding. Canary Group transferred the shell companies into a safer chain after the Paris raid. Smart move. You've got ghosts running the show now no one knows who owns what."

"And the weapons route from Istanbul?" Zayden pressed.

"Stable. For now. The new contact in the port is clean, but he's nervous. Wants out in six months. We'll need a backup."

Zayden's jaw flexed. "Find someone quieter. Someone local."

Leo wiped his mouth with the cloth the food came in, then tossed it beside the empty plate. "Already working on it."

There was a long pause between them. The low hum of the base filled the silence, comforting in its cold familiarity.

Then Zayden spoke again. "Did you find the traitor in the tech division?"

Leo's expression changed just a flicker. Annoyance laced with frustration.

"No," he said shortly. "Whoever it was scrubbed the logs before we noticed. Covered their tracks well. Too well for someone low-level. I think it's someone with high clearance… someone we trusted."

Zayden's voice dropped. "You still think they're inside?"

Leo exhaled. "No. Gone. They went dark the same night the London safehouse was hit. Took data, access keys, codes we hadn't even registered as compromised."

Zayden's hands curled into fists at his sides. "And the firewall breach from two weeks ago?"

Leo gave a grim nod. "Probably them. They're leaking breadcrumbs. Just enough to keep us guessing. It's a game."

Zayden's tone sharpened. "We don't play games."

Leo glanced at him. "No. But whoever this is they're stalling you. Maybe trying to bait you into the open."

The weight in the room shifted.

Zayden's silence said more than words could.

He wasn't just annoyed.

He was calculating.

Planning.

Finally, he pushed off from the cool wall and approached the cluttered desk. He picked up one worn map, its edges crinkling slightly, and studied the chaotic inked circles and names, each mark echoing untold stories. After a moment, he set it back down carefully, as if it held secrets he didn't want to disturb.

Leo watched him.

"We'll find them," he said quietly. "We always do."

Zayden gave a faint nod.

But something in his cold, sharp gaze hinted that when he found them, there would be no warning and no second chances.

He turned for the door, voice low and final as steel.

"Keep digging. And keep her out of this."

Leo smirked faintly. "You care."

Zayden paused just long enough to say, "No. I protect what's mine."

He left, climbing the stairs to the warmth above. He left behind the shadows, the silence, and the man who understood all too well what Zayden could do when someone disturbed his peace.