The VIP suite of the Gilded Lotus Auction House was silent, save for the rhythmic, heavy breathing of the occupants and the faint, high-pitched hum emanating from the crystal box on the table. Inside that box, suspended in a stasis field of unparalleled complexity, floated the single drop of Golden Spirit Roc blood. It didn't look like liquid; it looked like a molten star, swirling with violent, golden storms, radiating a pressure that made the very air in the room feel heavy and metallic.
Alaric sat on the plush velvet couch, his naked body glistening with a sheen of sweat that wasn't entirely his own. He stared at the drop of blood, his ruby eyes narrowing in calculation. His Azure Spirit Lion bloodline was roaring within him, a primal hunger clawing at his insides, demanding he smash the glass and consume the power right then and there. It wanted to evolve. It wanted the wind and the speed and the sovereign authority of the Roc.
