ARES’ POV

The city lights flickered past us as I drove through the shadowed streets of Los Angeles. The scent of concrete and late-night tacos hung in the air, mixed with a distant saltiness from the ocean breeze. The occasional palm tree whizzed by, casting fleeting shadows across the dashboard.

From the corner of my eye, I kept stealing glances at Noah.

His head was leaned out the window, his short hay fluttering with the night wind like he was some carefree teenager out on a midnight ...