Caesar sat in brooding silence, his massive frame wedged into the leather seat like a grumpy bear who'd been told the honey supply was cut off. His gaze remained fixed on the window, watching the city blur past, but his mind was still stuck in that hotel lobby.
Caelian, ever the menace, leaned forward with a grin sharp enough to cut glass.
"What's got you so quiet, brother? Still thinking about that person in the lobby?"
Caesar's jaw tightened. "I wasn't thinking about anything."
"Liar."
Caelus, seated across from them with a stack of documents that could rival a small tree in height, didn't even look up. His pen scratched across the paper with mechanical precision.
"Who is Caelian referring to? Was there someone of interest at the hotel? Another pack's spy?"
Caesar hesitated. The words felt ridiculous even inside his own head. But if he was right—if that really was her—then keeping quiet would be a mistake he couldn't afford.
