-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. His posture was perfectly correct, his expression unreadable

nning of her rebirth? In another timeline, in another world, Jacob Daniels was a legend-the Grim Reaper of the Haven stronghold, a top

thed him with every

e precious than gold. One pack of beef stew MRE. Two packs of chicken and rice MRE. Three mea

rift back-it seized

e, her flesh torn, her bones screaming. She had crawled across a floor layered with dust and debris, every movement an agony, until her trembling fingers closed around a miracle: an unopened MRE

ated beef and gravy hit her nostrils, the most beautifu

use like a hurricane-high-level evolved hu

the MRE had slipped from her fingers. From a safe distance, hidden and trembling, she had watched the victors emerge. Jacob Daniels's team. His teammate had scooped up her beef stew

ever laid a hand on her, never stolen from her directly. But his presence, his battles, his chaos-it had ri

dsome, undeniably infuriating face. She swallowed. The

al, burning cramp that sent a s

me, I never found another o

, you

tice of that dead world, every time she had crouched in the dark with an empty belly and a hollow chest, every

es-those cold, analytical eyes-were already cataloging her. Assessing. What was this woman do

e chance to fin

t a wild, flailing attack. It was a blur of precision violence, honed by years of

se

a choked grunt. His formidable frame folded, and he crashed onto his knees on the cold marble

ot still streaking her face. She looked down at him w

we me," she ground out