Skylar's POV
The safehouse was quiet, but it wasn't the quiet that let you relax. It was heavy, suffocating, a weight on your chest reminding you that something was off.
I paced the room, my boots scraping against the cracked tile. Julian and Jasper sat nearby, not saying much, the exhaustion etched upon their faces. But I couldn't sit. Not yet. My brain was too loud, filled with questions I didn't have answers to.
He sat in the corner, calm as ever. He didn't look like a man who had just helped us pull off a risky escape. No, he was annoyingly composed, like he'd expected everything to go down exactly as it had.
I stopped pacing and turned to him. "Alright, spill it."
He raised an eyebrow. "Spill what?
"Don't play dumb," I snapped, folding my arms over my chest. "You knew about the council, didn't you? You knew who they were, who she was."
