“I remember the blood.”
The words left Aluna’s mouth in a broken whisper.
And everything stopped.
Ren’s face drained of color.
Arka’s body went rigid behind her.
The sound of distant gunfire faded into something hollow and far away.
Blood.
Not coffee.
Not rain.
Not a café.
Blood.
Her breathing became shallow, uneven.
Images slammed into her mind without mercy.
A warehouse.
Dim lighting.
Concrete floor.
Her hands shaking.
A man lying on the ground.
Not dead.
But close.
And Ren—
Standing in front of her.
Blocking her view.
Blocking someone else.
Blocking—
Arka.
Her knees buckled.
Arka caught her instantly.
His arms firm around her waist.
“Easy,” he whispered.
But his voice wasn’t calm.
It was tight.
Controlled panic.
Ren took a slow step back.
“Tell me what
