Logan's POV

The stench of burning wood mixes with something else—something wrong that makes Atlas pace restlessly in my mind.

I crouch beside the remains of what was once a family cottage, its blackened timbers still smoking in the early morning air. A child's toy truck sits abandoned in the ash, its red paint melted and bubbling.

'They ran fast,' I tell Lucas through our twin bond. 'Smart.'

Lucas materializes beside me, Thor's fury bleeding through his human form. ...