The word “poison” hung in the air, a vile scent that choked the last traces of our sanctuary. Our new beginning hadn’t even lasted an hour. The peace we’d forged on that desk was now a distant, mocking memory.
Lysander was already moving, a study that contained fury. He dressed in a soldier’s efficiency, his movements sharp and precise. The lover was gone, replaced by the avenger. But this was a new kind of vengeance. This wasn’t about the past; it was a direct, brazen challenge to his present power.
“Get dressed,” he said, his voice clipped. “We’re going to the facility.”
“Is that safe?” I asked, pulling on my clothes, my fingers trembling. “If someone got to him inside your secure facility…”
“That’s precisely why we’re going,” he bit out, strapping a watch to his wrist. “To look the
