I knew something was off the second I walked into the war hall. The air felt tighter than usual, and I couldn’t quite place my finger on what it was. The kind of silence that wasn’t empty, but it was loaded.
Something was just off completely.
Oliver stood near the back wall, his arms crossed, and his gaze locked on the man slumped in the chair at the center of the room. His expression didn’t shift when I entered. Neither did Rome. Luca barely glanced my way.
Quinn, though, met my eyes and gave the smallest shake of his head. Not a no. Not yet. Just… not good.
The man was young. He looked to be maybe in his early twenties. Broad-shouldered with a plain face. One of ours, technically. A tracker assigned to the eastern border patrol. I recognized him vaguely, Bennett, I thought. He was a
