TRISTAN

We shouldn’t have been out here. We’d already won. The trial was over. We were the first team back to the Academy gates, the package clutched in Adrian’s bruised hands, the stench of battle still clinging to our hair and fur. That should’ve been the end of it. But Adrian couldn’t let it go.

He never did when it came to him. Fucking Zion.

“I’m going to check the eastern ridge,” Adrian said.

I rolled my eyes so hard it gave me a headache. ...