It started slowly—eerily so.
One of the servants dropped a tray.
That was the first sound. Just the clatter of polished silver hitting marble.
Then came the screaming.
Not from the ballroom.
From somewhere deeper. Distant. Echoing.
A howl split the air. Unnatural. Guttural. Half-human, half-something else. It crawled under the skin of every person in the room, dragging nails across their nerves.
I stood perfectly still, eyes scanning the crowd.
For a few seconds, the guests laughed nervously, murmuring about the noise. Some craned their necks toward the hallway, expecting entertainment. Another trick. Another animal show, maybe.
Then someone ran in from the corridor—bleeding.
A soldier, face pale with terror, one arm hanging uselessly from a torn shoulder. He didn't even get a full sentence out before he collapsed, twitching.
And the ballroom exploded into chaos.
Chairs scraped back. Glass shattered. People shoved past each other, their fine silks and polished shoes suddenly nothing but dead weight. Panic had a smell—sharp, sour, thick with sweat and blood—and it hit the air all at once.
I didn't move. Not yet.
I needed them to scatter.
I needed them to become unpredictable.
That's how fear worked. And fear was what I'd trained them to follow.
Nyx surged beneath my skin, pacing, ready.
They're moving fast, she said. Two breaches already. They're spreading just like you wanted.
Good.
My eyes found Kade at the edge of the chaos. He looked at me once, gave a single nod, then vanished through the side doors to hold the secured wing. Kol's voice buzzed faintly in my ear: East hallway clear. Control room abandoned. I'm rerouting lockdown now.
"Seal the exits!" someone shouted—a general, maybe. He'd drawn a weapon, barking orders, trying to make sense of a situation far beyond his paygrade.
Too late.
A creature barreled through the archway at the north end.
Eight feet tall. Pale. Wrong.
Its eyes glowed with bioluminescent green, unblinking and pitiless. Its mouth was too wide. Its limbs didn't move like they should've, jerking forward in loping, predator strides.
It pounced on the general mid-command, slammed him into the wall hard enough to leave a crater—and then everything was screaming again.
I let myself sink into the chaos.
Moved through it like water.
Not trying to control it. Not trying to help.
Just observing.
A man in a wine-stained uniform tried to grab my arm, pleading, "Where's the exit? What is that thing?!" I met his eyes calmly and didn't say a word. Let him see it on my face—that there would be no help coming. He dropped his hand and backed away like I'd burned him.
Another burst of gunfire echoed from down the corridor, followed by silence.
Then chewing.
I stepped over a fallen politician who'd tripped in his panic, ignoring his begging as he clutched my boot. He was bleeding from the ankle—probably bitten in the first wave.
Nyx was humming now. Not with joy. With precision.
They're learning, she whispered. Faster than we thought.
One of the creatures slithered past me, pausing only briefly. It tilted its head, scenting me—then moved on. Not friend. Not foe. Something in between.
The ballroom was a bloodbath.
Not clean. Not fast.
And the worst part?
It was just the beginning.