ia

thick with the scent of damp earth, rotting leaves, and the metallic tang of impending rain. I pushed d

lone, I closed my eyes, steadied m

ed over the dark forest. My hands moved with frantic, practiced precision. I grabbed a blister pack of broad-spec

nto my pockets, the hair on the bac

ysical weight, a raw manifestation of Dragonblood aura that made the very air feel like m

s man radiated a dark, intense, and overwhelming charismatic power. His sharp jawline caught a sliver of moonlight, and his

terrifying presence, the heavy c

alf-undone. "Thought you could hide in the dark, little bitch?" he slurred, drawing a jagged hunting kn

gh. My muscles coiled like a spring. I was ready to step inside his guard

a disgusting gr

cross the distance,

fying burst of Dragonblood pressure-slammed down from the r

ith a sickening, bone-rattling crunch. His knife clattered uselessly into the darkness. He slumped into the

his hands and knees, pissing his pants in sheer, p

o the woods, screaming into th

ridge. The intense, mysterious figure had vanished, leav

tia

plintered branch like a club, his chest heaving, his own wound b

ket under a pile of useless, random leaves. "Wyatt got spooked by the dark.