HOODED MAN POV

She stood there—silent, unmoving—bathed in the harsh, sterile glow of the resurrection chamber.

Freya.

Or the hollow echo of her.

She had been meant to be different. Chosen. Transcendent. But something had gone wrong. The serum hadn’t bonded as it should have… or perhaps Alaric, in his arrogance, had tried to bend fate to his will. Again.

I moved closer, my boots silent against the metal floor. She looked like a fallen goddess—crafted ...