The journey back to the surface was a masterclass in quiet, domestic security. The heavily armoured, jet-black Rosea convoy navigated the treacherous, winding obsidian tunnels with flawless precision. Inside the sprawling, ultra-luxury cabin of the primary vehicle, the harsh chill of the Northern Peaks was replaced by perfectly regulated climate control and the soft, ambient glow of the city lights reflecting through the tinted windows.
Solis sat on the plush leather bench, his long legs stretched out comfortably. He had discarded his tailored suit jacket, wrapping his strong arm securely around Noir's shoulders. Noir was curled intimately against his husband's side, completely insulated from the violent, chaotic world outside the reinforced doors.
