𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐞
She was loud, desperate for him to hear her, but Ilya didn't respond. He didn't even turn to acknowledge her. He simply stood there, perfectly still, the mechanical wolf's head tilted slightly as if listening to a frequency only he could hear.
Konstantin lunged.
The impact was devastating—not because he connected, but because of the vacuum left behind when he didn't. The mechanical wolf moved. It didn't retreat; it flowed through the attack, slipping between Konstantin's massive jaws by a hair's breadth. Metal joints pivoted in ways flesh and bone never could.
But Konstantin was faster than he looked. His claws raked across the construct's flank as it passed, producing a horrible shriek of tearing metal. A deep, ugly dent marred the side of the machine, and from the seam around the wolf's muzzle, blood began to seep.
My stomach dropped. He's still in there. He's still feeling this.
