Edward’s POV
I stood in my laboratory, surrounded by equipment most wolves would never understand. Half-empty containers littered the counters. Many were crusted with dried residue.
The room stank like a chemistry accident, like acidic fumes mixed with something rotten underneath.
“Perfect,” I murmured, holding a serum up to the light. The viscous liquid shimmered green and blue, throbbing like it might jump from my hand. “Almost ready for mass production.”
The body on the floor groaned softly. Not just anybody—Edward’s body. The real Edward, heir to Northern Crescent Pack.
Or what remained of him.
“Quiet now,” I scolded, kicking him without looking down. “The sedative should have kept you under longer. How disappointing.”
I set the vial down and turned to my unwilling guest. The man’s face was a bloody mess—I’d removed most of his skin already, carefully preserving it for my own use. His muscles twitched beneath the exposed tissue, nerves firing randomly in his agony. He wouldn’t s
