The wind slammed through the open door, wild and cold, nothing like the city anymore. It tasted sharp, almost electric, biting at June as she gripped the silver doorframe. She stood right at the edge, so high up it felt like the world just dropped away beneath her. Clouds churned below, thick and white, and above, the sky deepened—blue fading into something black and endless.
“June, get away from there!” Dante’s voice cut through the roar. He reached for her waist, his hand heavy and strange, the skin stretched over metal wires now.
June stayed put. She was frozen, staring out at the silver tower rising from the middle of New York. She could see Silas Avery—her father—on its balcony. He didn’t even look human anymore, just a blinding, mirror-bright statue. Sunlight glanced off his silver
