The metallic reek of ozone and copper hung heavy in the clogged lobby.
Marcus Sterling stood beside Chancellor Vance like a spectre of our past failures, his dark chest-plate reflecting the flickering emergency strobes overhead. In his right hand, the master biometric override key glowed a pulsing, malignant crimson.
"You're a traitor to your own blood, Father," Gideon growled, his voice dropping into a register so dark the marble beneath our boots seemed to vibrate. He didn't lower his handgun, the heavy barrel locked directly onto Marcus’s chest. "You sold out the Ironclaw pack to the very monsters who tried to execute me at the border."
Marcus let out a short, dry bark of laughter. "I saved the Ironclaw pack from your sentimentality, Gideon! You brought an extinct ghost into our boar
