The clinking chains groaned like dying metal, each rattle a scream in the stale, suffocating air. The room reeked of iron, blood, and damp dust, no ventilation, no mercy. Against a crumbling wall, Kael Lenoch, the Alpha, knelt with ragged breath. His body trembled violently, veins bulging along his arms, muscles locked in rebellion. It was like his own flesh and bone refused to obey, refused to stay calm. Something inside him had snapped, bloodlust, fury, the primal urge to kill. And whatever it was, it had taken the wheel.
Sunlight from the dying day bled through the slats of a steel-barred window, half-covered by thick wooden boards that blocked every inch of escape. The light shimmered like molten metal, but behind that glow, Kael's golden eyes blazed, his grip on control unraveling fast.
