The night air outside Sterling Tower felt unnaturally cold — the kind of cold that didn’t just brush the skin but burrowed into bones, settling like dread. Smoke still rose from the higher floors where explosions had shaken the building. Sirens wailed in the distance, blending with the metallic clatter of fallen weapons and the groans of subdued enemies.

But the real storm was inside Ares.

Lucian sat handcuffed in the second SUV, wrists bound behind him, face marred with bruises, yet ...