The safe house was deceptively quiet. Outside, the city remained fractured, smoke curling into the night sky, fires burning in pockets where the council’s control still lingered. But inside, the tension was palpable. Every sound, every flicker of light set my nerves on edge. I pressed a hand to my stomach, feeling the twins shift. Their movements were insistent, a constant reminder of why survival was more than just about me. Damian stood near the windows, muscles coiled, eyes scanning the dark streets below. Every instinct, every sense, screamed that we were being watched. He didn’t speak, didn’t move unless necessary, simply observed, waiting for the inevitable strike. Chloe crouched near the table, fingers flying over her tablet, scanning intercepted communications. “They’re mobilizing,
