Chapter 92
Elijah sat quietly inside the black, heavily tinted car, its engine humming softly beneath him as the city passed in a blur beyond the windows.
Rain drizzled lightly outside, misting the glass with a silvery sheen.
He wore a tailored black suit with a long coat draped over his shoulders, the collar turned up against the cold.
Despite the faint bruising still clinging to his skin, he looked more refined than ever.
His sharp black hair was brushed back, and his crimson eyes shimmered with quiet focus—eyes that had seen too much and wanted more.
His fingers tapped rhythmically against his knee as he stared out at the glowing skyline. Skyscrapers flickered with neon, but his mind wasn't on the view.
It had only been two days since the battle—one that left him reminded of his weakness.
The pain hadn't fully subsided, but neither had the anger.
Elijah clenched his jaw.
He needed to get stronger.
There was no other path forward.
