Chapter 9: Flames of Fate.

Vincent Virenson.

The second rattle of the window wasn’t just a warning—it was a promise.

I shoved Violet behind me, gun raised, every muscle strung tight. My pulse thudded in my ears, a steady war drum. The loft’s silence was broken only by her sharp inhale and the creak of the glass about to give way.

Another scrape. Louder. Closer.

“Stay down,” I barked, not taking my eyes off the window.

“Vincent—”

“Violet,” I cut her off, voice ...