The war room smelled like blood and gun oil.
Raven stood in the center of the chaos, her side aching where the rifle butt had caught her and her lip bleeding from where she'd bitten it. The torn black silk dress hung off one shoulder, exposing too much skin. Sweat slicked her body. Her pulse hammered so hard it reached her teeth.
The attacker had been dragged away. Marco's body was long gone. The doubt Vincent's three words had planted stayed behind, cold and lodged and not going anywhere.
"It happened."
No denial. Nothing more than that. She couldn't stop hearing it.
Vincent stood at the head of the table, unshakable as ever, while the guardians moved around him with low efficiency. Lucian was already sealing the breached systems. Dante paced like a caged animal. Sebastian watched her with new intensity. Matteo calculated. Leonid stood guard at the door like death itself.
