Draven's POV

Lightning split through the sky, the sound of thunder tearing through the clouds as I stepped into the old chapel.

My boots echoed across the rotting floorboards, rain dripping from the hem of my coat, forming a dark trail behind me. I moved slowly, my lips pressing into a thin line.

My grip tightened on the doorknob, the hinges creaking as I pushed the door open, the other hand tucked casually into one of the pockets.

The air was thick with the scent of incense, wood, and rotten garbage.

I tilted my head, letting my eyes adjust to the dim glow of the candlelight. I took a deep inhale, goosebumps forcing their way onto my skin.

They were hiding. They'd known I was coming, yet they stayed. Perhaps they'd considered me a fool or maybe treated my threats as mere words.

Either way, I'd make their skin melt into their bones. That, I consider mercy.

“Father,” I drawled, my voice dropping to an octave, filling the air with dread. The smirk deepened, my feet slowly walking to the confession box.

“It’s been a while.”

The silence in the air screamed louder than their voices would. I could hear the frantic beating of their hearts.

I took another step forward, pausing at the confession box.

“Come now,” I whispered, my voice low, almost lethal. “Don’t keep the devil waiting.”

I allowed them to decide if they'd stay hidden or walk out of the confession box.

“Are you going to come out, or should I smoke you out like the rats you are?” I drawled, my patience wearing thin.

The atmosphere thickened, my brow furrowing. Sooner or later, I'd have to decide for them, and when I do, I'd see if they bled red.

Slowly, the door of the confession box opened with a groan, and three of them stepped out, their heads bowed, their eyes barely concealing their fears.

“Well, well,” I breathed, straightening. “Took you long enough.”

I knew who they were the moment I scented the fear in their sweat. Spies. Cowards. Scared little dogs sent by trembling Alphas who couldn’t sleep knowing I still walked the earth.

They came because the stories were true. Because the neighboring pack couldn’t believe it.

They couldn't accept that I had survived the fire. Immediately my powers kicked in when I was a child, the people I called mine tried to burn me simply because they believed that I was the saint patron of their demise.

When they couldn't burn me, they chained me and stripped me of my dignity. I begged to be accepted, but they dragged me into the woods where the Void dwells—a creature even nightmares fear. A godless predator that fed on werewolves for sport. He alone sat at the top of the food chain.

But they didn’t expect me to live. They'd expected that the ten-year-old boy they'd sent off to be killed by the Void wouldn’t live and walk the surface of the earth.

They didn't expect the Void to take me in as nothing but a friend.

“You’ve been searching for me, haven’t you?” I asked, folding my arms. “You went sniffing around, hunting for me?”

They tried hard to mask their fear, but the more they tried, the more it appeared bolder on the lines of their expressions. It excited my wolf, and I could feel him, whispering his happiness into my ear.

The one in the middle stepped forward. He was tall, his dark short hair resting on his shoulders. He steadied his breath, and I could see the arrogance in his face.

“Death,” he deadpanned, staring into my eyes. “We apologize for stepping into your city. It won't happen again.”

I smiled slowly, the kind of smile that stretched without warmth.

“I wanted to spare you,” I said softly, approaching them. “Really. I did. I was feeling merciful tonight. But here’s the thing—”

I stopped a breath away, tilting my head, my eyes glowing faintly.

“Mercy died the night I was banished,” I said calmly, my voice bouncing off the cold wall of the cathedral.

Their eyes trembled, their feet hitting the floor as they realized their fate.

“Spare us,” they begged, their lips quivering. I watched them with an amused smirk, watched them beg till they lost their voices.

I was dressed in a finely tailored suit; it'd be a shame if I soaked it in their blood.

All it took was a whistle, and the three beasts I called sons emerged from the shadows with cruel grins. They were picked from the streets, taught the way of blood, and nurtured to be nothing but killing machines who did my work. They were my retirement plan, anyway.

“After you all are done having fun, send their corpses to the Void.”

Of course, my freedom from the forest came with a price. In exchange for my freedom, I'd get him the souls of my foes.

I stepped out of the cathedral into the rain, their screams trailing behind me. I got into the sleek black car and zoomed off home.

The ride to my mansion was smooth, the silence occasionally broken by the haunting whispers of souls I’d murdered.

Necromancy—of all my powers, it was the one I despised most. It made me seem like I lived in a world full of pain.

"Save me," they’d cry.

I never knew what they wanted saving from. Never cared either.

Finally, the mansion came into view, and I pulled up at the parking lot. My back ached as I walked into the mansion, greeted by the scent of chicken soup. My stomach growled, my legs mechanically moving into the room.

The moment I stepped into the room, my gaze fell on her—Wendy.

My secretary. Or perhaps more accurately, my personal plaything. She was flexible, always available whether it was scheduling for an event or pleasuring me.

She was dressed to seduce.

A black satin dress clung to every curve of her body like it was a second skin. The neckline of her dress dipped low, revealing just enough to draw the eye. Her long legs were dressed in black lace stocking.

Wendy was beautiful. Not in an innocent way—but in the kind of way that could steal a man’s soul with a look. Her dark hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, revealing a neck that begged to be marked. A cigarette dangled lazily between her red lips, glowing faintly in the dim lighting of the mansion’s hallway.

She took a deep drag, her lips parting slowly. Smoke curled from her mouth.

“You kept me waiting,” she purred, her voice low.

I grinned.

"You know I hate keeping you waiting," I said, walking up to her with slow, deliberate steps."

In one swift motion, I slammed her against the wall. Her breath hitched, her cigarette falling to the marble floor. I crushed it beneath my boot.

My hand moved up and began drawing on her arm, and her heart dropped. My lips rested on hers, my tongue wrestling for dominance in her mouth. There was nothing soft about the kiss.

My grip tightened around her, and I pulled her closer to me like I couldn't get enough of it, her cherry taste lingering on my tongue.

Between kisses, her lips brushed my ear.

"I heard something... from the locals," she whispered breathlessly. "They said a girl escaped the Mystic Woods."

I froze.

Pulled back just enough to study her eyes. She wasn’t lying.

Escaped? That was impossible.

The Mystic Woods devoured all. No soul entered and came out whole—unless they were me.

My jaw clenched, curiosity overwhelming me.

“No one gets out of there,” I muttered, my tone dropping to an octave. “Not unless the Void let her go.”

I stepped back, adjusting my suit, my mind already spinning.

“Find me the girl,” I said, staring into Wendy’s eyes. “I want to see what she’s made of. Maybe the Void has a new favorite.”

She smirked, nodding.

“Consider it done. I'd send Jason and Ethan to sniff her out.”

I turned, dismissing her with a wave of my hand.

The door clicked shut, a sigh escaping my lips. I traced my steps to the bathroom, undressing as I stepped into the shower.

I shut my eyes, the warm water cascading down my spine.

Whoever the girl was, she was worth studying. Or, had she struck a deal with the Void?