The red glow in Charles's eyes pulsed like twin embers in the dark chamber, each flicker accompanied by a rhythmic hum that seemed to resonate from within his very bones. His chest rose and fell in sharp bursts, sweat glistening on his skin despite the supernatural cold that had settled over the room. But the energy coursing through him was no longer the raw, desperate lust that had fueled his Syncs before—that primitive hunger that had driven him from woman to woman in search of something he couldn't name.
This was different.
Hotter. Wilder. Primordial.
It felt like standing at the edge of creation itself, watching stars be born from the collision of cosmic forces. Every cell in his body sang with power that transcended human understanding, and beneath it all was a terrible awareness that he had crossed a line from which there could be no return.
