Alpha Kael And The Crimson Bloodline
The hunters stumbled back as his laugh started — soft at first, then louder, broken, feral.
He looked at them through the dark and whispered,
“You should’ve killed me before the moon rose.”
The chains rattled once. Twice.
Then snapped like brittle glass.
He stood, the silver burning his wrists, smoke rising where metal met flesh. His body shifted — bones stretching, muscles twisting, teeth lengthening. A monster born in gold light and silence.
“You guys,” he said, voice deep and distorted,
“are out of luck.”
The first hunter fired.
Fenrak moved faster than the flash.
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