The smell hit them before the smoke did.
Aria stood on the ridge overlooking the Lower Verge, her chest tight, her ribs still bandaged from the last fight. Smoke bled into the sky from three different directions. Even from here, she could hear the cries—thin, broken, desperate. The sound was worse than any wound.
Kane had struck back.
Dominic stood beside her, arms folded across his chest, eyes narrowed against the acrid wind. “Three districts at once. He’s not just punishing you—he’s sending a message.”
Aries’ voice was low, steady, carved from stone. “He’s telling the city that fire burns those who touch it.”
Aria’s hands curled into fists. Her claws itched to tear, to strike, but all she could do was stare at the plumes of smoke rising from the city she had sworn to free. Her throa
