All Chapters of Waking up to my sin: Chapter 91 - Chapter 99

POV)​The scream didn't sound like a child. It sounded like tearing metal.​I was out of bed before my brain even fully processed the noise, my feet hitting the cool tile of the Azores villa. Malakai was right behind me, his movement silent and lethal, though his eyes were still clouded with the remnants of a deep, exhausted sleep. We didn't need to speak; we both knew the sound was coming from the room at the end of the hall.​"Kai!" I threw the door open.​Our son was upright in bed, his eyes wide and vacant, staring at a corner of the room that held nothing but shadows. He wasn't glowing, but the air around him felt charged, the hair on my arms standing up as if a storm were about to break inside the four walls.​"She was there," Kai whispered, his voice trembling so hard I could barely hear him. "The woman with the silver hair. Elena. She said she was my grandmother. She showed me a place... a giant white building in the mountains. It was cold, Mom. So cold."

The Epping industrial strip was a wasteland of corrugated iron, rusted shipping containers, and the persistent, oily smell of heavy machinery. It was the kind of place where things went to be broken down or built in secret, far from the polished glass of the city’s business district.​I stood in the center of the warehouse, the hum of the specialized ventilation system a low, rhythmic vibration beneath my boots. On the outside, it was a derelict textile factory. On the inside, it was a multi-million-dollar sanctuary of sterile white surfaces and pressurized glass.​I’d spent the last forty-eight hours wiring the perimeter with enough thermal sensors and non-lethal deterrents to stop a small army. But the real defense wasn't the tech; it was the silence.​"The air scrubbers are at ninety-eight percent, Malakai. We’re officially a Level 4 clean room."​I turned as Sally walked through the decontamination foyer, snapping a pair of latex gloves over her wrists. She was a

The night air of the Western Cape was a different beast than the sterile, recycled oxygen of the lab. It was heavy with the scent of damp earth and the distant, briny rot of the harbor. As I pulled the blacked-out SUV out of the Epping industrial strip, the city felt like a living, breathing predator, its millions of lights flickering like eyes in the dark.​Beside me on the passenger seat, the handheld tracker Sally had rigged up was pulsing a rhythmic, ghostly green. It wasn't a GPS coordinate; it was a bio-resonance signature. A heartbeat in the static.​"Malakai, I’m seeing a shift in the amplitude," Sally’s voice crackled through the encrypted earpiece. Back at the lab, I knew she was hunched over her monitors, her eyes reflecting the cascading red lines of the interference. "The signal isn't stationary. It’s moving toward the Salt River district. Slow, jagged movements. Whoever—or whatever—this is, they’re on foot. And they’re distressed."​"Distressed how?" I aske

The industrial silence of the Epping warehouse was broken by the heavy, rhythmic thud of my boots against the concrete. I carried the girl like she was made of fine porcelain, her head lolling against my shoulder. She was out cold, the "flare" having drained every ounce of her adrenaline, leaving behind a frail, shivering child who looked like she’d been running for her entire life.​Sally met me at the reinforced glass doors of the med-bay. She didn't ask questions—she didn't have to. One look at the girl’s iridescent skin, still shimmering faintly like spilled oil on water, told her everything.​"Get her on the primary cot," Sally commanded, her voice sharp and professional. She kicked the lever to lock the wheels as I lowered the girl onto the sterile white sheets. "Malakai, her vitals are a nightmare. Her heart is trying to settle, but her neural pathways are still firing like a live wire. What happened back there?"​"The Scourge found her first," I said, my voice sounding like it