He grinned — blood in his teeth.
“She was chosen.”
Nora gasped from behind Havoc. “Chosen for what?!”
The man looked at her —
dark eyes gleaming with something twisted.
“For correction.”
My blood went ice cold.
Correction.
I’d heard that term before.
Trigger’s breath caught. “Wolf… that’s from those old foster ops—”
Saint’s voice trembled. “Wolf… he’s from that unit— the one tied to experimental behavioral programs—”
Nora stumbled, shaking. “No… no, that can’t be…”
The man looked directly at her, voice softening like a memory brushing poison across her skin.
“You were the only successful subject. The only one who didn’t break.”
Nora’s hand flew to her mouth.
My heart stopped.
I stepped forward. “What the hell are you talking about?!”
He turned to me — smile fading into something hard and cold.
“She doesn’t remember. They made sure she wouldn’t.”
Made sure.
Foster home.
Older man.
Watching her.
Evaluating her.
My stomach twisted.
Nora whispered, voice breaking, “What did they do to me?”
The man tilted his head.
“They didn’t do enough. That’s why we’ve come to finish our work.”
Nora let out a soft, horrified sound.
And that—
