Harley’s P.O.V.

Derek slumped down in front of the fireplace the moment I locked the door, his back hitting the carpet with a soft thud.

The flames flickered, casting an orange light across his face as he exhaled shakily. He pulled off his gloves, rubbing his palms together, and stretched them before the fire.

“Damn!”

He muttered, a tired grin flickering across his lips.

“The weather is so cold in Grafburg. This city is like a freezer.”

It was a fact that the wind was chilly here, but that wasn’t my concern. I needed answers, and Derek took his sweet time before replying.

“I broke through the border security to...