Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the Beast
Near the ruins of the gate, leaning against a pile of rubble, was Damon.
He looked terrible. His face was pale, and he was clutching his side where the Elders' shadow had touched him. But he was alive. And in his hand, he was still holding the silver remote. He was staring at us with a madness that made my blood run cold. He didn't look like a King anymore. He looked like a man who had lost everything and decided that if he couldn't have the world, no one could.
"Very impressive, Kaima," Damon rasped, a thin trail of blood running from the corner of his mouth. "You found your dog. You broke the gods. You really are the perfect little hero."