— "What do you want?" he managed to grumble, his voice raspy and broken. His heart raced as he fought against the chains that held him captive, the cold metal biting into his skin.

— felt the tides turning. Ashara's desperation fueled her strength, and for the first time, she reveled in the notion of being the hunter.

Meanwhile, Aleksander's thoughts swirled in a fog of pain and confusion. The taste of iron filled his mouth as he spat blood onto the stone floor. —

— revealing Fenrir’s true nature or his intention to keep Aleksander far from her grasp. It was enough to let Ashara stew in her own fear and desperation.

Persephone stood her ground, adrenaline surging through her. She had always been the hunted, but now, with Aleksander safe and hidden, she —

— reveled in the fact that Ashara was powerless to find him.

"He’s gone," she repeated, her voice steady despite the pain. “You’ll never see him again. Fenrir has him now.” The satisfaction in her words twisted the knife deeper into Ashara's already wounded spirit. Persephone had no intention of —

— own blood trickling down her forehead, but the thrill of her victory over Ashara dulled the ache, making her giddy with triumph. The vampire had been relentless, searching for Aleksander with a ferocity that made her blood boil. But now, with a wry smile painted across her bruised face, she —

— twisted expressions of his captors. He squinted through the haze of pain and confusion, the world around him blurring and coming back into focus in waves.

Persephone leaned against the heavy door, still reeling from the impact that had sent a jolt through her skull. She felt the warmth of her —