The heavy, metallic hum of the Council's transport ship was so loud it felt like it was vibrating in my very teeth. The searchlights were no longer just sweeping the room; they had locked onto the balcony of the Master Suite, pinning Kaelen and me in a blinding, clinical white glare. The wind from the ocean whipped my hair around my face—hair that was now glowing with faint, golden sparks of static electricity.
I stood at the edge of the shattered window, my feet bare on the warm obsidian floor. I didn't feel the cold. I didn't feel the fear that had defined my life for the past few months. The Phoenix Protocol was roaring in my veins, a river of liquid gold that made every nerve ending in my body feel alive, sharp, and lethal.
