THIRD PERSON'S POINT OF VIEW
The sky burned red.
Odette's boots slammed against the steel of the floating platform as the drone screeched away, releasing Dalle just in time for Draxen Thorne to catch him by the collar. The boy kicked and screamed, flailing in the grip of the man Odette once called mentor—now her worst nightmare.
"Put him down," she growled, limping forward, blood staining her thigh and shoulder. Her eyes were wild with fury, her breath ragged but steady. "Or I'll rip your spine out through your throat."
Draxen's face remained placid, almost amused. His salt-and-pepper hair was swept back, his features carved by years of careful control and cold calculation. But it was his eyes that showed it—the madness lurking just beneath the calm. The obsession.
"So violent, Sable," he said smoothly, ignoring Dalle's cries. "And you wonder why I called you a weapon."
