The figure that emerged from the shadows of the park's evening light made my blood run cold. Even with the extensive scarring that covered every visible inch of his skin—twisted, pale lines that spoke of unimaginable pain—I recognized him immediately. It was all in the way he moved, that calculating gleam present in his eyes, the slight tilt of his head that suggested he was always three steps ahead of everyone else.
It was Mark. Subject 3834.
My body tensed instinctively, every survival instinct screaming at me to get Sienna away from here. Without thinking, I stepped forward, creating distance between her and the unpredictable man who was one of my greatest allies and one of my worst enemies.
"Rey?" Sienna's voice was soft, confused, but I could hear the underlying worry. She'd picked up on my sudden tension.
