My Fallen Werewolf
“What worked?”
“The neural binding—we reached full synchronization with Subject Twelve,” he said, panting, shoving a data tablet into her hands. “The regenerative sequence held... and the shift lasted for six whole minutes.”
Torres’ face paled in awe. “Six minutes?”
Miller slowly turned to Emily, his lips twitching into something between pride and danger. “Congratulations, Miss Waltson,” he said darkly. “You chose the perfect time to invest.”
Just then, a sharp beep pierced the air. The sterile lab was instantly bathed in an ominous red glow as the overhead warning light began to flash, pulsing in sync with a loud, echoing ton… ton… ton — the unmistakable sound of critical failure.
Hot Chapters