The barrier still holds beyond the fuel court. Blood, stone dust, and spent ammunition foul the air as Mara crosses toward Grant, her sheathed sword radiating heat.
Grant Regenauer
Stop there, Kanra. You want something, say it plainly.
Grant lowers his rifle only slightly. His scarred gaze tracks her hands, then the sword at her hip, while survivors remain behind the pumps under his orders.
Mara closes the remaining distance and makes her intimate offer through deliberate touch and proximity, presenting the new wall as payment. The sword pulses hotter beneath its sheath.
Grant Regenauer
You call that gratitude? Or is the blade making the bargain for you?
The court falls into a strained quiet. Grant does not holster his weapon, but neither does he retreat as Mara’s body begins subtly changing beneath the mage’s robes.
The intimate encounter passes off-camera. When the silence settles, the sword’s heat remains, and Grant watches Mara with suspicion sharpened by an unanswered question.
Convince Grant that the offer was Mara’s own choice