130
Doctor Smith’s gaze locked on his hands—his knuckles were raw and bleeding, a jagged shard of glass glinting between his fingers.
“Stay back,” Nico’s voice was low, frayed with rage, but it carried the weight of a warning.
His grip on the glass tightened, a bead of blood sliding down to his wris...
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61. 61
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90. 90
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100. 100
101. 101
102. 102
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111. 111
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128. 128
129. 129
130. 130
131. 131
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133. 133
134. 134
135. 135
136. 136
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139. 139
140. 140
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187. Epilogue
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