Celeste stood at the head of the table, her fingers tapping lightly on the wooden surface, her thoughts elsewhere. She could feel the weight of the decisions pressing on her, the unease in her stomach settling like a stone. The rogue threat was growing by the hour, and the tension in the air was palpable.
She had been trying, with everything she had, to keep the situation under control. But as the reports came in, it became clear: the rogues were not just aimlessly attacking. They were organized. They were coordinated.
The door to the war room swung open without warning, breaking Celeste’s concentration. She glanced up, her gaze hardening instantly as Hunter strode in, his expression set, eyes filled with the kind of determination that usually meant trouble.
“I’m going,” Hunter’s voice
