"He's no longer human," Azael's ears picked up a man's voice. It came from one of the rooms in the king's meeting hall.
It was midnight, there was no moon and no soul was suspected to be awake—not even Azael himself.
Yet they were there.
The words hooked his curiosity instantly. Because in this entire kingdom, there was only one man that description could belong to.
Him.
Their scent reached him where he stood—his brothers in war, now distant. Men who had fought beside him…and turned cold the moment he returned from death.
Zurn's voice led them.
"He was better off dead," Fen's voice followed, his tone laced with disdain. "Stupid sorcerer. Stupid Kingdom. They all deserve to rot for casting us aside in favor of him."
Azael's fists curled slowly.
Even Fen.
"I don't care if we are sidelined," Zurn continued. "Azael is not to be trusted. I saw him on that battlefield.
The sorcerer didn't bring back a man—he brought back a demon."
Fen scoffed. "No demon that we cannot put down once it forgets its place."
"That," Zurn cut in quietly, "is where I fear you are wrong, brother. Hector was there. He will bear me witness."
A pause.
Azael immediately understood.
"I counted over fifty enemies advancing from the front, with ambushers closing in from all sides," Zurn began. "We were barely twenty men left—including Azael."
Azael's memory stirred.
The army sorcerer warnings to Azael not to engage beyond the limitations of an empowered man.
But he had not listened.
What good was having power if not using it to help your own? He had thought.
"It was a gore we were not prepared for," Zurn continued, trying to steady his tone. "He was fast—ripping through men as though they were nothing.
And when the frontline fell, the ambushers didn't retreat because of us…they fled because he was coming."
"I don't think I want to fight anymore," Hector's voice broke in. "I meant to die a man killed and honored in war. Not to be torn apart by that abomination."
"To be honest," Fen said flatly, "I thought he would be able to do better than that."
"You didn't let me finish," Zurn snapped. "He was untouched. The only blood on him was that of the men he had just put down.
And the look in his eyes as he walked past us to hunt the ambushers—it was clear he recognized us, which somehow made our fear worse. The more blood he consumed, the worse he became."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Azael could almost taste their fear.
"It is now more reasonable that we don't trust the man these powers were blindly given to," Fen said at last.
"Very soon," Zurn said. "We might not have a choice."
**
From the throne, Azael watched through the eyes of his bats.
Five men emerged from the forest, heading toward Lumere.
They wore the kingdom's military uniforms but they were too agile for men who had just survived the chaos of his territory and the lycans.
He twisted in his throne where he sat, unease coiled within him.
He had been watching Lumere—for Fen and for anything else that did not belong.
There was still no sign of the sorcerer.
Still no word from Thorne and Evren regarding Elana's escape.
Was Fen working with humans now?
Azael shifted slightly, directing one of his bats higher toward Fen's territory.
He contemplated spying closer, curious about what Fen might be planning.
"Azael." Eira's voice called. Again he had not noticed her presence.
"These visits are becoming tiresome, Eira," Azael said, his tone drawn tight.
Moonlight traced the edges of her leather dress as she approached, stopping just within reach.
There was something softer in her expression, genuinely sad this time.
"I've seen the strain on you," she said gently. "And I'm here to offer comfort."
Azael leaned back into his throne.
Strain was an understatement.
It had indeed been a blur of war and overexertion these past few days. His soul itself felt exhausted from battling his demon.
"And I never forget," she continued, stepping closer, "that beneath all this…you are still a man."
His gaze shifted away—to the full moon beyond the window, choosing silence over response.
"The city of Lumere has been whispering about wolves—likely Fen's hybrids," Eira said.
His jaw tightened.
So Fen had crossed that line.
"I know I no longer hold the place I once did in your world," she went on quietly. "But I care enough to tell you this—humans are not to be trusted.
Especially not the way you trust that blind slave."
Azael's gaze snapped back to her, his glare sharp, warning.
She flinched but didn't retreat.
"I've lived among them longer than you have in these past centuries," she said as she lowered her eyes. "And I know you didn't isolate yourself by choice."
He said nothing.
Had he fixated on Elana because of how desperate he was for humanity in his world?
Because she reminded him of something he had lost?
Perhaps, he should have just turned her. Removed the question entirely.
"A slave will always act in their own interest, master," Eira continued. "At least I chose you freely. I never sought to control you the way she does."
Anger flared within him. "How dare you?" he growled.
Eira whimpered, stepping back. "I'm sorry…it's just how it seems."
He remained still, despite the storm inside him.
A deeper form of control that he should have been more cautious of—far more dangerous than any sorcerer's manipulation—was his own heart.
"What if she knows?" Eira pressed softly. "What if Elana understands exactly what she does to you…and is using it?"
"Leave," Azael said.
He wanted nothing to do with any more theories. Not ones that felt too close to the truth.
Eira hesitated only a moment.
"I'd never thought you'd be the one to fall for something so obvious."
And then she was gone.
The fury inside Azael burned hotter. The possibility of Elana deceiving him only fueled his need for answers about her escape from Sirence.
Trust was not something he could afford to misplace.
If Elana had hidden motives, he would uncover them himself.
**
Theo circled the spot—the place he had seen Fen enter. The hidden rocks.
He hesitated, unsure whether to proceed. The mountain was nearly empty of wolves; most were out hunting, a few sent toward Lumere
Information was scarce around here. Fen clearly did not trust his own.
Some feared him too much to approach, most seemed mindless.
Theo exhaled slowly, crouching as he moved around the rocks, careful to stay unseen. When he emerged on the other side, he found himself facing a garden.
He slipped into the thick foliage without a sound.
The smell of mint filled the air.
At least Fen was not nearby—good. That gave him room to observe.
Theo decided to wait.
Truthfully, he was tired of this world. Danger lurked at every turn, unlike the controlled risks of his former life as a mercenary.
But the memory of Eira's body made it worth it.
A better reward than gold.
He closed his eyes, leaning back, noticing vines beneath him.
The moonlight spilled into the garden entrance.
His motivation had changed.
He replayed Eira's moans in his mind—her cold, responsive body.
It had been a while since she'd had a man, and he could tell.
Deep down he wanted it to stay that way—except with him.
At least he was no longer human.
He could have left with his gold and reward.
But here he still was.
Driven by nothing but devotion…
and the thought of having Eira beneath him again.