Page 136

Veyr nodded.

"And keep looking for Seren," Hagan said, voice hoarse but firm. "We will find her."

There was emotion behind the words—quiet and aching.

"She tried, every day, to be the best version of herself," Hagan said, staring at the trees of the forest. "And if I want to be worthy of her—then I have to be the best version of me."

He exhaled, a bitter, tired laugh ghosting past his lips.

"Not having her around is like... when you lose a tooth."

Veyr frowned.

"There's a raw wound in your mouth," Hagan said softly. "Your tongue keeps going back to it, over and over, even though it hurts. Even though it won't heal."

He looked down at his wrist—there was still blood drying in the lines of his knuckles from before in the training field. He was still faster and stronger than all, but it was like a gift with no substance.

"I want that pain," he said "The pain right here in my chest. It tells me she hasn't chosen another"

"It's what keeps me going."

Chapter 51

Seren

The city was nothing like Vargrheim. It was like Seren had spent her whole life in slow motion and now, everything was changing at the speed of light around her.

The city moved too fast—buzzed too loud.

Buildings climbed toward the sky like they were trying to outrun something. Steel and glass gleamed under grey light, and neon signs blinked over narrow alleyways like restless eyes.

But it wasn't just noise.

"This side of the city's unofficially called the Shifters' Quarter," he said, jarring her from her reverie. "Less scrutiny. Witches, too. Lots of magical bloodlines blend here."

The Shifter's Quarter was like a dream gone sideways.

Storefronts jostled for space—one advertised "Primal Shifter Experiences: One Night, No Regrets!" in glowing red letters. Another boasted "Stripper Witches & Whiskey Wednesdays", its windows fogged with incense and secrets. Flyers for underground fight clubs fluttered across cracked sidewalks.

Every corner pulsed with magic barely leashed—fur beneath skin, claws under smiles, enchantments disguised as perfume samples.

As they sat in traffic, the engine ticking impatiently, a gust of wind funnelled through the narrow street and slapped a crumpled flyer against the windshield.

Talis reached out, peeled it off the glass, and glanced at it.

He snorted and handed it to Seren.

Black ink on smudged grey paper, stamped with claw marks and flecks of something that looked suspiciously like blood.

"THE PIT — Underground Cage Fights. No Rules. No Mercy. This Full Moon. Winner Takes All."

Beneath the bold lettering were the names of the headliners:

BRAX "Wolf" HOLLOWBLADE

Vs.

KNOX 'THE RIPPER' VANTH