THIRD PERSON’S POV

The moment the drink touched Ryker’s lips, the world tilted, and the war room chamber vanished.

He was falling—no, being pulled—into a vortex of red and fury. The air was thick with heat and rage, swirling around him like a living storm. Claws scraped against unseen walls. Hands reached out, skeletal and desperate. Fangs snapped in the dark, inches from his throat.

“Ryker…” voices hissed, echoing from every direction.

“Ryker Ashbane…”

He spun, ...