Rory’s laugh rolled through the room, rough and horrible. The sound made the hairs on Eli’s neck stand on end. Vivian tightened her grip on the knife, her chest rising and falling fast, but her eyes never wavered.Dylan groaned, clutching his ribs as he struggled to push himself up. His mind was a storm. His brother alive—no, not alive, something else, something wrong—and saying words that burned holes through his heart.Rory’s glowing eyes locked onto him again. “You should have died with them, Dylan. But no… they saved you. They raised you. They turned you into their loyal dog while I was left to burn.”Dylan shook his head, his voice raw and broken. “That’s not true. I—no one saved me. I crawled out of that fire myself. I barely—”“Lies!” Rory roared, his voice splitting into two tones again, one human, one not. His body shuddered, veins glowing faintly beneath his ruined skin. He stepped forward, and the floor seemed to groan under his weight.Eli pumped the shotgun again, sweat d

The heavy wooden door slammed against the wall, the sound echoing like a gunshot. Everyone froze.A tall figure strode into the room, his boots striking the ground with deliberate weight. His coat was scorched, smoke clinging to it, as if he had just walked through fire itself. His eyes glowed faintly gold in the dim light.“Step away from him. Now.”Dylan’s pistol wavered toward the newcomer before jerking back to Rory. “Who—who are you?” his voice cracked.Vivian’s eyes widened, her blade trembling for a different reason now. “No… it can’t be…”Eli narrowed his eyes, jaw tightening. “What the hell…”Rory snarled, his grin twitching, faltering. “You…” His claws flexed. “I watched you burn.”The stranger’s voice came cold, yet steady, laced with authority that filled the room. “And yet, here I stand.”Dylan’s throat closed, a strangled sound escaping him. His gun almost slipped from his sweaty palms. “Father?”Vivian’s head snapped toward him. “What?”Eli froze mid-breath. “No way.”R

The sword wavered in Dylan’s hands. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the hilt, sweat dripping down his temples. His arms shook—not from weakness, but from the sheer weight of the choice crushing him.The room was so quiet, only the crackle of smoldering wood and the hiss of Rory’s dripping blood filled the air.Vivian’s lips parted, her throat dry. She had never seen Dylan like this—his face wasn’t just broken; it was carved through with something far worse: betrayal.“Dylan…” Rory’s voice trembled. The monstrous edge that had carried his words was gone now, replaced with the tone of a boy caught doing something unforgivable. “Please… don’t point that at me. I’m your brother.”“Brother?” Dylan’s voice cracked, raw and bleeding. He laughed—a sound so broken it made Vivian flinch. “You call yourself my brother, and yet you chained me like an animal in the dark!” His hands trembled so hard the blade almost slipped. “All those nights I woke screaming—those marks—those whispers—they wer

The plane ride felt longer than it really was. Dylan sat by the window, his head leaning against the cold glass. Clouds moved slow outside, and every now and then he closed his eyes, only to see flashes of fire, chains, and voices that wouldn’t stop. He rubbed his face hard, trying to push the memories away. He told himself over and over—new place, new start.When the plane touched down, the voice of the captain came through the speakers, but Dylan barely listened. His chest tightened as the city came into view. Greyharbor. A place people spoke of with either greed or fear. A coastal city built on lies, money, and gangs that ran its streets when the sun went down. For Dylan, it was far from home. And maybe that was good.He left the airport with a small bag slung over his shoulder. The air outside was salty, mixed with smoke and the smell of fish from the docks. Tall buildings rose in the distance, their glass windows catching the gray light. He pulled his hood up and kept walking. He

Laura leaned back against the counter, folding her arms like she owned the room. Her grin widened as she glanced around at the few people waiting. “You know,” she began, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I used to feel sorry for Jane. Poor thing. Married to this… this mess of a man.” She pointed at Dylan casually, her eyes sparkling with cruel amusement. “Can you imagine? Feeding him, taking care of him… all the while trying to keep her sanity intact. And Molly,” she added, voice dropping to a mock-whisper, “their poor little girl… seeing her daddy stumble through life like a joke. That must’ve been fun, right? Living with a man who can barely feed himself without someone guiding him?”Dylan froze, a deep, slow heat rising in his chest. His hands clenched on the stack of papers. He didn’t look at her—he didn’t want her to see the fire in his eyes—but every word she said dug into him like nails.A quiet cough came from the corner. One of the waiting clients shifted, clearing his throa