Kiya POV
I sat curled on the corner of my couch, a blanket around me even though I wasn’t cold. I was just… empty. Burned-out. My brain had finally stopped functioning like a high-speed computer and downgraded itself to Joey Tribbiani level: “How you doin?”
Except I wasn’t doing well. Not even close.
Shelly sat beside me, hand gently rubbing my arm. Sam paced like a stressed-out parent waiting outside a school principal’s office. The silver chains that wrapped Logan were still inside my bedroom—the same room where he nearly killed me… or “marked” me, as they called it.
My apartment was quiet again. Too quiet.
The Google device was in tiny pieces.
The lights flickered back to normal.
And my life? Definitely not normal.
I replayed everything Shelly had dumped on me:
Supernaturals ex
