Feral on the Ice
Christina Wilderadored by my ruthless alphaan echo of an alpha's crueltyclaimed by the ruthless alpharejected but claimed by her four alphas
The simulation had Eaten the Reality.
And standing at the edge of the roof, looking out at the new, prehistoric skyline of New York, was Julian. He wasn't a child, and he wasn't a ghost. He was a man made of silver-gold muscle and bone.
"The format was a success, Elara," Julian said, his voice a rich, terrifying resonance. "But the 'Originals' didn't survive the update. We’re the only ones left."
He turned to her, and his eyes were a swirling vortex of every color in the multiverse.
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