Nyxara Rising
“Don’t talk to me about survival. I’ve clawed my way out of my own damn grave.”
You’re escalating beyond tolerance.
She leaned back, arms folded, eyes bright with defiance. “Then raise your tolerance.”
Her rival mate appeared in the doorway—shoulders tense, jaw set, eyes crackling with warning. He was the only one who could match her stubbornness, the only one who ever tried. “They’re closer than you think.”
She didn’t look away from her screens. “Good. Saves me the trouble of chasing them down.”
Third twist.
Her screen flashed—a live feed, grainy but unmistakable.