Chapter 53

Smoke still lingered in the shattered café, curling in tendrils through the broken glass and overturned tables. The scent of blood, adrenaline, and scorched magic clung to the air like a storm that refused to pass.

Dante cradled me protectively, crouched beside a fallen table as Aethel and the pack warriors moved in tight formation around us. The last of the rogues were being subdued—some unconsci