"Yes."
"When?"
He opens the deployment file.
Scrolls through the technical specifications.
And then he stops.
His entire body goes rigid.
"Cyprian?"
"Seventy-two hours," he says.
His voice is completely flat.
Emotionless.
Terrifying.
"The device is already in place. It is scheduled to activate in seventy-two hours."
I stare at him.
At the flickering amber-orange veins.
At the absolute, lethal stillness in his frame.
The war didn't follow us home.
It's already here.
Already inside the gates.
Already counting down.
"We need to find it," I say.
"Yes."
"We need to disarm it."
"Yes."
"And then we need to burn Marcus Hale's entire empire to the ground."
Cyprian turns to look at me.
His amber eyes are glowing.
Not gold.
Orange.
Dark, dangerous, warning orange.
"Yes," he says.
