MARKED BY MY ALPHA'S FATHER
His teeth were clenched so tightly that a thin trickle of dark blood began to leak from the corner of his jaw, dripping onto the yellowed pages of the master register below him.
Beneath his skin, the permanent silver veins were no longer just etching lines—they were waking up.
The jagged, lightning-like tracks that had lived beneath his collarbone began to rise, bulging against his flesh like thick, iron wires trying to burst through a leather casing. The light radiating from his chest shifted from a faint, latent violet into a blinding, volatile silver that cast sharp, skeletal outlines of his ribs directly through his clothing.
Bab Populer