Calm and sexy as fucking hell, dressed in a light-gray sweater beneath an off-white casual blazer hugging his tight frame. But it was the silver-rimmed glasses with black reflective lenses that did it for him.
Roz glared in his direction, sitting so close to Gage he might as well had been sitting in his goddamn lap.
“Thank you for coming.” Jo gestured to the empty chair on the other side of Gage. “Please.”
He walked to his seat, eyes locked on his partner.
“Evening,” Gage said smoothly, after he sat down.
Scar almost groaned. Gage smelled incredible. Warm and powdery, like steam clinging to his freshly showered skin.
It wasn’t until the lights dimmed that he pulled his attention away from him.
Jo didn’t ask him to tell everyone a little about himself, like he’d dreaded she would, or did a roll call, instead she clicked a button on the remote in her hand that dimmed the lights and made a large screen mounted on the wall turn on.
It displayed a montage of images and videos of war and brutality.
Villages burning, men dragged from their homes and executed in the dirt. Children and women beaten into silence, mass graves, cartel convoys rolling through towns and leavingbodies hanging from bridges as warnings, warlords recruiting kids barely strong enough to hold the rifles shoved in their hands, religious fanatics burning churches and mosques with believers still inside, crops torched so nothing would grow back, poachers gunning down wildlife.
It went on for over an hour, and the aftermath was worse than the crimes.
He watched it all, stomach churning. Gage stared straight ahead, listening.
Scar didn’t know what was worse: seeing it all or only hearing it.
Then…
The Ravens descended.
Footage of each team fighting—hooded and concealed—entering hot zones and breaking entire militias apart.
One moved like a blade, and the other like a sawed-off shotgun. One like a storm, another like the ground itself, the Blacks destroying and consuming like fire and smoke combined.
Scar struggled to keep up with them.
When the lights finally came back on, Jo waited for it all to sink in.
Scar had known violence his whole life. Street fights. Drive-bys. Turf wars where innocent people were often caught in the crossfire. The kind of violence that was loud, messy, and emotional. Ignorance that led to no change, only more chaos.
“This is what we do,” Jo said.
Scar didn’t look away.
He’d killed for petty shit all his life. Doing it for something bigger and more important than himself might reverse his lifetime of bad karma.
“All Ravens undergo enhancements,” she said. “Not to make you monsters, but to make you capable.”
She walked around the room, slow and deliberate.
Her gaze roamed over him and Gage.
“Your files already show neural adaptation, adrenal regulation, musculoskeletal reinforcement, and sensory amplification.”
Scar gritted his teeth.
So all that shit that’d been done to him had a name and purpose.
“Nothing further will ever be done without your express consent,” she continued. “What you’ve already endured cannot be undone. What comes next is learning how to live with it. How to control it. How to focus it. We’ll train you individually first to identify your strengths and limits, then together. There’s a reason Ravens move in flocks in the wild. They do it for safety and efficiency.”
