The police station lights flickered overhead as Hollow Wrath leaned against the wall near booking, jaw tight enough to crack teeth. Black paint shadowed his eyes, red spiral contacts glowing under the fluorescent light while tattoos disappeared beneath the collar of his jacket.

The holding door opened.

Reverie stepped out, and the second Wrath saw her, he shoved off the wall with a bitter laugh.

“Are you serious?” His voice was sharp, cold. “You lose your mind for one night and end up in jail?”

She opened her mouth, but he cut her off instantly.

“Don’t.” He dragged a hand through his dark hair, pacing once. “I bail you out and somehow you’re still the one pissed off.”

Outside, rain slammed against the pavement beside his idling motorcycle.

Wrath tossed her the spare helmet without looking at her.

“Get on before I decide you can stay here.”