Aiden's Point of View
The moment my phone buzzes in my pocket, a cold weight settles in my gut. I don’t even have to read the screen to know it’s bad. My fingers close around the device, but before I can pull it out, the front door swings open with a rush of energy, and Drake steps in, his face tight with tension.
“There’s been another attack,” he says grimly.
Mark and I lock eyes and instinctively reach for our phones. The alert is flashing across the screen, another incident, too soon after the last.
“We just got it,” I mutter, already bracing myself.
“We should go,” Drake continues, voice low but urgent. “Show our support, see what we can do.”
I nod my head, stepping forward without hesitation. But Mark moves behind me, ready to follow, and Drake immediately raises a hand to stop
