"Are you okay?" Drakion asked, his gaze falling to the woman in his arms.
But the moment he saw her face—everything inside him froze.
Anger surged like wildfire through his veins.
His eyes darkened.
"It's you."
Veins pulsed across Drakion's face—thankfully hidden beneath his mask. He felt the overwhelming urge to strangle the figure before him. Deep down, he wished she wasn't real—wished she wasn't truly there.
And who was this person who stirred such wrath in Drakion?
The one who had carved the darkest scar in his memory—the Wolf Girl, the one who had once roasted him for food.
Despite the bruises that marred her body, and the absence of any wolf aura, there was no mistaking her. That black-silver hair… those eyes filled with killing intent, yet utterly devoid of emotion.
He could never forget that face.
ROAR!
The Dragon Soul charged, its fury ignited by the interruption of its hunt—even in its mindless state, rage prevailed.
