The warehouse is just what I've heard of, the abandoned area by the shore of the beach. Used now for twenty years as a ring for rogues, the cars have already piled up, ranging from old and beat up to sleek and new.
I walk beside Gray, nervous as the doors of the warehouse are just yards away from us. Zion and a group of warriors surround the area, out of sight, and masking their scent in case something goes horribly wrong.
"Ready?" Gray asks as we get closer.
I nod, watching as the sun begins to set, making me feel only worse. No, I've never been afraid of the dark, but now I am. Circumstances run through my head of the rogues figuring out who I am to the King and chasing me down all in the dark. It's as if my body has begun to shut down and is starting to rely on autopilot as my stomac
