Marcus slammed his fist against the damp stone wall of the cellar. Dust cascaded from the cracked ceiling to coat the maps scattered across the wooden table.
The underground safehouse offered complete isolation from the burning capital above. The muffled screams of the rioting mob filtered down through the ventilation grates.
Noah paced the length of the confined room, repeatedly checking the locking mechanism on the reinforced oak door while wiping sweat from his forehead.
Mia sat on a crate in the corner with her knees pulled tightly to her chest, chewing on her thumbnail until blood welled around the cuticle.
"The citizens literally tore the King apart." Olivia stood beside the table and activated her magical radar by pointing her hands toward the ceiling. "They butchered the royal guard and dragged the ministers into the streets. We have absolutely no army left to protect us."
