She squeezed her eyes shut, visibly digging through the memory.
“I don’t know,” she finally admitted with a frustrated shake of her head. “But the gun looked… wrong. Like it wasn’t fully from this world.
Her fingers twisted into the fabric over her stomach.
“He told Manshu that even if I was human, the gun would still work on me.” Her voice cracked on the last word. “Then he shot me.”
The room went dead still. Her hand pressed harder against her abdomen like she could still feel the bullet tearing through her.
“He left me there,” she whispered. “He just left me in that alley to die.”
My jaw locked painfully. Rage flooded through my body so fast it almost drowned out everything else.
I wanted to rip Manshu apart with my bare hands. Wanted to hear him screaming. Wanted him begging at Olivia’s feet. My muscles twitched with the need to move. To hunt. To destroy.
Before either of us could react, Olivia’s voice broke again.
“I don’t know why he hasn’t tried anything yet,” she said quickly, eyes darting between us. “But he’s planning something. I swear, Calix.”
Panic climbed higher with every word.
“I’m not lying.” The fear in her voice nearly tore me apart, but Calix moved first. He crossed the room and crouched in front of her.
One bloodied hand lifted to her face. His thumb brushed her cheek so gently it almost didn’t fit the violence radiating off him.
Olivia leaned into the touch without thinking, and something sharp twisted in my chest at the sight.
“I believe you,” he said quietly. Every ounce of steel in him softened for just that moment. “I’ll always believe you.”
Her eyes fluttered shut. The breath that left her sounded like someone finally letting her surface after drowning.
His kindness hit me harder than the rage burning through my veins.
While I stood there, barely holding myself together, imagining Manshu choking on his own blood, Calix stayed focused on her. On Olivia. Her hands trembled in her lap, and her breathing still snagged every few seconds like the memory was clawing at her from the inside out.
He gave her what she needed most. Not vengeance. Safety.
With her eyes closed, leaning into his touch, Calix finally looked up at me. I froze when I saw everything raging inside me staring back through his eyes. Every violent thought. Every promise of blood. Every savage instinct that demanded retribution.
The air between us tightened. No words were spoken, but I heard him anyway.
Manshu was going to pay for this. For every flinch. For every scream. For every second she bled alone in that alley. Tenfold.
I gave the smallest nod, and that was all it took. We had a plan.
The understanding locked into place between us, old instincts sliding back into familiar grooves. Pack. Brotherhood. Violence sharpened into purpose.
Behind my ribs, fire rolled hot and hungry. Flames sparked at my fingertips as images flashed through my head. Manshu on his knees, wings burning, screaming, while the night swallowed the sound whole.
A fitting song for what he’d done to her. But rage was useless without strategy. Thankfully, we were very good at strategy.
Calix slowly pulled away from Olivia, though his attention lingered on her for a beat longer than necessary before he started pacing behind me.
“I don’t know how he got his hands on something like that,” he muttered, jaw flexing. “But we’re taking that weapon.”
I squeezed Olivia’s knee once before standing. Her fingers briefly caught mine before letting go.
I pulled out my phone, already sending messages, issuing orders, moving pieces into place while Calix paced beside me like a caged predator.
