Destin studied Kali’s red, swollen eyes. He didn’t plan on coming to the National Guard Armory. He had fought against it, but he couldn’t leave her. He couldn’t let her go without telling her he loved her. That she was his Kali. His wind sprite, his baby sister, his family. When Razor stopped him in the narrow alleyway, he had almost killed the bastard. At least, until Razor asked him how many times did Kali have to almost die before Destin realized that it was time to accept the Alliance’s help in rebuilding the Earth.
He licked his lips and stared back at Razor. “May I come in?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” Razor replied.
Destin would have to have been blind and deaf to miss the possessive way the Trivator warrior was holding his sister or to miss the warning in his voice. Razor was makin
