Chapter 155

• Zarek’s POV
• The cell stank like sweat, iron, and something darker — the kind of musk that clung to a predator when his claws had already tasted blood.
• I shouldn’t have been here. Not with half my ribs still aching every time I breathed, not with the faint sting of bandages hidden under my shirt. The healers said “rest.” The principal said “stay away.” But the thing about Zarek? I don’t listen. Especially when it comes to Atlas.