The silence after chaos always felt wrong.

Azrael sat on the edge of his bed in the dim studio apartment, head in his hands, trying to process everything that had happened in the span of a few hours. The construction site was a smoking crater now—he'd seen the news footage on Maya's phone during their panicked flight across the city. Official reports blamed a gas leak explosion, but the scorch marks formed patterns no earthly fire could create.

His wings had finally retreated, folding back ...