Owen Grady

Owen stood near the service road, arms crossed, boots planted firmly in the gravel. His gaze never stopped moving. Old habit. The kind that kept you alive in places like this. Behind him, Blue’s enclosure loomed—tall, electrified, and quiet in that way that meant she was watching. Owen didn’t need to see her to know it. He felt it in his spine. A transport truck rolled to a stop with a hiss of hydraulics. Massive. Armored. Military-grade restraints bolted into the trailer like it was meant to carry something that didn’t want to be carried. Claire stepped up beside Owen, tablet tucked under her arm, her brow already furrowed. “This shipment wasn’t on my schedule,” she said flatly. “No documentation. No species classification. No origin.” “That’s comforting,” Owen replied, eyes narrowing as