Kael's face was the thing that scared me most.
Not Jax going still. Not Ghost closing his eyes. Not Tank's hand moving to his belt. Those were expected — trained responses from men who'd survived worse than a woman at the gate.
But Kael looked afraid. The president who'd walked into a lumber mill with six Serpents inside and walked out covered in someone else's blood. The man who'd told me three weeks ago that Reapers didn't run from anything. His hands were white on the back of the chair and his silver eyes had gone somewhere far away.
"How long?" His voice was gravel.
"Since she buzzed." Tank hadn't moved from the window. "Thirty seconds."
"Where's she been?"
"Don't know. Didn't ask."
Kael stood. The chair scraped back. The sound broke whatever spell had fallen over the room — Wol
