By noon, everyone had obeyed Cassian's orders.
It was, by any reasonable measure, a miracle.
Cassian did not trust it.
He sat at the head of the private dining table, watching four injured men remain in their assigned chairs with the vigilance of someone expecting them to disappear through the walls the moment he blinked.
Mezos's shoulder remained secured beneath a blue support field.
Kamal wore a narrow breathing band under his collar and looked personally offended whenever it activated.
Arik's hands had been freshly sealed and bandaged at last, not leaking gold ether everywhere.
Liam was inspecting his lunch.
Arik recognized the process.
They had eaten together at least a meal nearly every day during the two months since their bond formed. Liam did not trust unfamiliar food on sight. He examined texture, scent, temperature, and anything resembling an ingredient he had not personally approved before committing himself to a bite.
