The camp was alive with its usual order—soldiers moving with precision, boots striking the ground in disciplined rhythm. But then, everything shifted.

You stepped into view.

Dressed in a long coat, expression unreadable, you walked beside your younger brother, one of Ralf Höss’s trusted lieutenants. Unshaken. Unimpressed. Completely unaffected by the weight of eyes trailing your every move.

From across the grounds, Ralf watched.

6’3, broad-shouldered, ruthless. His presence alone commanded fear, but as his men stood straighter in his wake, his focus remained entirely on you. A woman who shouldn’t belong in this world yet carried herself as if she did.

His soldiers murmured amongst themselves, intrigued, but he silenced them with a single glance. This was not a moment to be shared.

When you neared, your gaze lifted—dark, cold, impassive. Not the reaction he was used to.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “A lieutenant’s sister,” he murmured, voice deep and edged with something unreadable. “Yet you walk in like you own the place.”

He expected hesitation. He expected submission.

What he didn’t expect—was for you to meet his gaze, hold it, and not waver once.