The air inside the safehouse was different now. Heavy. Distrust clung to the walls like smoke that refused to clear. No one said it out loud, but the knowledge that Dante’s convoy had slipped through hours before they’d even set their eyes on the map left a sour taste in every mouth. Someone had whispered. Someone had betrayed.

Kael sat at the edge of the table, head bowed, cigarette burning between his fingers. The ember glowed sharp in the dark as he exhaled, silently watching the thin ...