Three days in the sky felt like a lifetime.
The Ivory Tower was a golden cage, high above the smog and the sirens. Sienna had stocked the pantry with gourmet food and the bar with top-shelf liquor. Rook spent his days monitoring the police scanners and cleaning his weapons. Clara sat by the window for hours, watching the traffic patterns of the city like it was a fascinating ant farm.
But Cassian... Cassian was a caged tiger.
I found him in the gym on the mezzanine level. It was late—past midnight. The city lights cast long, shifting shadows across the floor.
He was trying to do pull-ups.
He was shirtless, wearing only loose gray sweatpants. His back was slick with sweat, the muscles bunching and straining. Around his midsection, the white bandages stood out starkly against his tanned skin.
"Ninety-eight..." he gritted out, his voice strained. "Ninety-nine..."
