-Raine Archer:
The ride to Blackgate Prison was silent.
I kept my hands steady on the wheel, my eyes on the road, but my mind was somewhere else—stuck between anger and helplessness. The moment Captain Denton had barked out his orders, telling me to personally oversee the new batch of Undercity criminals, something inside me had twisted.
Another arrest. Another group of half-demons was thrown into a cage.
I gritted my teeth.
Next to me in the passenger seat, Elias didn't say a word.
He just sat there, watching me out of the corner of his eye, his fingers idly tapping against his knee.
He knew better than to speak when I was like this—knew that words wouldn't fix anything. Behind us, three police cars followed, their red and blue lights flashing against the darkening sky as we approached Blackgate.
It loomed in the distance, a black silhouette against the deep purple dusk.
A fortress of concrete, steel, and shadows.
High walls stretched into the sky, topped with thick coils of razor wire that gleamed under the floodlights. Guard towers stood like silent sentinels at each corner, their searchlights scanning the perimeter with cold precision. Automatic turrets lined the roof, and I knew that somewhere behind those walls, snipers were stationed, watching everything that moved.
It was built like a war zone.
Because it was a war zone.
The worst of the worst were kept here—Undercity's most dangerous criminals. Murderers. Traffickers. Gang leaders. The kind of people Uppercity feared the most.
And now, I was going to be responsible for them.
I clenched the wheel as we slowed down, stopping at the reinforced gate where armed guards in black riot gear stood, their faces obscured by tinted visors. One of them stepped forward, rifle slung across his chest.
"Identification," he said, voice hollow through his helmet.
I pulled out my badge and ID. Elias did the same.
The guard took them, scanning them under a UV light before nodding sharply. Without another word, he turned to the others and motioned for the gate to open.
Heavy metal groaned.
A second later, the massive reinforced steel doors slid apart, revealing the prison yard beyond.
Elias let out a low whistle. "Welcoming as always."
I shot him a look, but the corner of his lips quirked up in amusement.
We pulled in, the other patrol cars following close behind. As soon as we parked, uniformed guards moved around us, their faces blank and professional. I stepped out, breathing in the heavy scent of iron, smoke, and damp stone. The air here always felt heavier.
Darker.
A man was waiting for us at the entrance. Warden Marcus Langley.
Tall, broad, and wearing a permanent scowl, he was the kind of man who had probably never smiled in his life. His uniform was crisp, his boots polished to a mirror shine, but his eyes—sharp, calculating, and a little too cold—were the kind that had seen too much.
"Lieutenant Commander Archer," he greeted, his voice clipped. "Vance."
"Warden," I returned the greeting with a professional nod.
Langley's gaze flickered over the officers behind me. "We've already processed the new prisoners. You'll be assigned to Cell Block D. High-risk containment."
Elias raised a brow. "Didn't waste time, did you?"
Langley didn't smile. "They're not the kind we leave unattended."
I crossed my arms. "What exactly are we dealing with?"
The warden's lips pressed into a thin line. "Some of the biggest players in Undercity. The kind that runs entire empires. This isn't just a gang cleanup. It's a power shift."
Something about the way he said it sent a cold prickle down my spine.
He turned and gestured for us to follow.
We stepped into Blackgate.
⸻
Our assigned room was small but clean.
Two narrow beds, a metal desk, a single closet, and a reinforced steel door that locked from both the inside and the outside. No windows. Just one dim overhead light that flickered slightly, casting everything in a dull yellow glow.
Elias flopped onto one of the beds with a dramatic sigh, his arms stretched above his head.
"This," he muttered, staring at the ceiling, "is gonna be hell."
I raised a brow. "You're saying that like you don't thrive in chaos."
He smirked. "I prefer controlled chaos. This is the kind that gets you stabbed in the back."
I exhaled, rubbing my temple before dropping onto the edge of my bed. "Well, at least we're in the same room."
"Of course we are." Elias turned onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. "Like I'd let you stay alone in a place like this."
I rolled my eyes. "You do realize I outrank you, right?"
He grinned. "I do. And I'm very proud of you, boss."
I tossed a pillow at his face.
He caught it effortlessly, laughing.
For a moment, the tension in my chest eased.
It had always been like this with Elias. No matter how bad things got—no matter how dark, how frustrating, how unbearable—he was my constant. My balance. The one person I knew would always have my back.
But as I looked around our new home for the next few weeks, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were walking into something far bigger than just another assignment.
Something dangerous.
Something inevitable.
And I had a feeling it was only just beginning.