Page 7

Those eyes narrow dangerously, as the wolf stills beneath my grip. I slide off him, and he sits back on his hind legs as I rise. He is huge, as all wolves are. He towers over me, his head high over my own and growling low at his King.

My gaze slides back to him—towards the man carrying darkness.

He's not afraid; I can see that in his eyes.

Everything is in his eyes; they're practically on fire.

I shouldn't let those eyes touch me. I don't know the reason for that protective instinct yelling at me from inside— stay away.

Stay away. Stay away. But it's the entire reason I've decided to stand my ground.

The Saviour watches me, not the least bit disturbed that his General is under my control. Instead, he tilts his head and says, "You murdered His Majesty King Valadez Imperium."

It isn’t a question; it’s a fact.

I chuckle. "It was concerningly easy, too. I mean, I expected a bodyguard or something. The system is really lacking if it's that easy to ambush our mighty leaders during such apocalyptic times."

"It was easy, was it?" The Saviour raises a brow, drawling sarcastically, "The blood squirting out of your leg certainly proves it."

I pout, glancing down at my leg and showing fake concern for the limb. "I gave him a free strike." I turn to the Saviour with a bloodied smile. "I was going to kill him, so I figured he may as well deserve it."

"And did you know he had a Defect?"

"A happy accident." I glance down at the Defect, watching him thoughtfully. "He was following me, which shouldn't have been possible. I thought only I could sense Nightwalkers."

The Defect is a Nightwalker, so of course I sensed him. His existence distorts the space around him, disturbing the fabric of reality itself. I see it happening.

Every creature occupies a point in space; a presence that subtly shifts and reshapes around them. It clings to their forms, defining their existence—allowing them to be felt, to be seen… To exist.

I can see them perfectly, always. Tiny, glowing orbs, pale and restless, drifting through the air like spectral pixies. I call them Aether.

And while Aether loves every being in creation—every tree, every plant down to the forgotten petal on the sidewalk—it avoids Nightwalkers entirely.

When creatures say Nightwalkers can't be sensed, it's because Aether refuses to acknowledge our existence. Our slow but still-beating heart. The universe rejects us, too— literally. Cementing the fact of what we are—abominations.

I find it quite amusing, actually.

I can see it avoiding me. Ignoring me. The orbs dispel in my space. And because I'm the only one able to see Aether, I can also see Nightwalkers. See the disturbance they create simply by existing.

Or, at least I thought I was.

How did this Defect see me?

I glance up as the Saviour's posture shifts. His crimson eyes look at me closely— too close . From that small detail, he was without a doubt a man of war, and I feel it now. He doesn't want my death; he wants my abilities.

He's certainly a strange creature. All the creatures I've met have either wanted my death or this body. But, like them, he underestimates me. Despite how many times I warn them, they never listen.

Oh well; he'll learn soon enough.

I grin. "I've only heard stories of you, Saviour."

"I'm hearing that word quite a lot today," he drawls, stepping forward. For a second, it almost seemed like the moonlight shifted to follow him, but that wasn't possible. Right? "It's starting to irritate me."

I don't know much about this man, but I see the slight inconvenience I've caused him might just be a deadly mistake on my part.

"That's quite a shame." My smile broadens. "I happen to like stories. The ones where the hero comes out victorious, living happily ever after as the villain rots away, becoming a distant memory, a forgotten nobody in their grand tale."

His gaze hardens on me, his eyes never once faltering despite the fact mine are bleeding gold. "If that's the case, you should run while I still feel generous."

"What makes you think I'm talking about me?" Turning to the growling wolf under my control, I muse before returning my gaze to the Saviour. "You've been quite a naughty hero, Saviour. Does the world know what you've been hiding in your floating castle? Do they know it could be their doom?"

I have his reaction when I'm ripped off the wolf and thrown across the clearing. My body flies through the air so fast that I can't stop on my own until my back slams into a tree. I land on my feet quickly, staring at the Saviour just as he stands toe-to-toe with me.

He glares down his nose at me; a veil of silken black hair falls over his brows, touching his dark lashes. Those endless red eyes bore into mine, holding so much chaos that it drips onto my skin, threatening to contaminate my soul.

"Your eyes," I whisper, my voice the softest I've ever heard it, "they bleed."

I obviously said something wrong—or maybe it's just me. Rage sparks his eyes, and my heart stutters at the lethality lurking within him. I don't dare look away, though; this God-like man intrigues me.

My gaze stays fixed on his, and he doesn't like it. I know he doesn't; he hates it. I can see it in how his gaze narrows as if saying—no, commanding —look away. Look away. Look away!

His presence still dominates the entire forest; what is he? No creature holds such a frightening aura. It's different somehow. I just can't place it.

He snatches my wrist. I stare, unsure when my hand moved to touch his face, and it's only now I realise how close I am. Close enough that his breath fans my forehead.

I glance at his tattooed hands wrapped around my wrist before finding his eyes again.

For the life of me, I can't look away. He leans in close.

His eyes seem endless, and his lips twist into a nasty snarl.

I don't dare move—not even when his smoky breath fans over my face or when his deep, crimson gaze lurks within mine. But I do speak.

A growl vibrates from his chest as I lean savagely close, standing on the tips of my toes, my words just a whisper on his lips.

"Be careful now, Saviour . My head is a dangerous place to wander. Tread too deeply..." He doesn't move. He doesn't speak, and he doesn't stop me as I whisper in his ear, "You'll go insane."