Malachai's POV.
They laugh.
They laugh like they’ve forgotten what they are.
Like they haven’t clawed through flesh and bone. Like they haven’t left children screaming over mangled bodies, or burned entire bloodlines down to ash.
Like they didn’t take everything from me.
I watch from the shadows, cloaked by the thick forest lining the edge of their precious haven. My men crouch beside me, armed and ready, eyes locked on the wolves that sprawl in the grass like a pack of overgrown mutts playing at being human.
The sun has the audacity to shine down on them — them — like they deserve light.
They don’t.
They deserve darkness. Suffering. Pain. And I’ve come to give it to them.
I’ve waited years for this moment. Trained for it. Bled for it. I made them my purpose — every breath I’ve ta
