Amara's POV

My hands were still shaking. The smell of gunpowder clung to my skin, the metallic tang of blood thick in the air even as we stepped outside the warehouse. Cassian leaned heavily on me, his body battered and bleeding, but somehow still steady. The vehicles from Senator Marchand’s men stood parked in formation, black, sleek, and far too quiet for the chaos that had just unfolded.

I was still trying to make sense of it all. Garvin was dead. I had killed him and now… ...