Bound to The Enemy of My Mate
The sound was different from the panicked shots echoing through the hall—a sharp, precise crack that seemed to swallow all other noise.
The specialized bullet, its tip gleaming with Pyre's corrupted clover extract, took her high in the chest, just below the collarbone. There was no dramatic spray of blood. Instead, a strange, silvery light bloomed at the point of impact, spreading under her skin like vicious frost cracking across a dark windowpane.