Kieran had never imagined himself as a bodyguard to a noblewoman, but here he was, shadowing Lady Evelyn Fairmont through the halls of her family's grand estate. The marble floors gleamed under chandeliers of pure crystal, and walls adorned with ancient paintings bore witness to centuries of power. Despite the luxury, Kieran never let his guard down. Danger lurked everywhere.

  Yet, for all his vigilance, Kieran felt like an outsider. The whispers, the wary glances from the estate's guards, the way the servants subtly avoided crossing his path—it was all a reminder that he didn't belong here. He wasn't one of them. He wasn't human enough to be accepted, yet not monstrous enough to be feared outright. So what was he?

  The question haunted him more than he cared to admit. For twenty-five years, the world had moved on without him. Now, even with a defined purpose, with a place to stand, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was standing on borrowed ground.

  At night, when his duty was done, Kieran found himself staring at his own reflection in the darkened windows of the estate. The face staring back at him was human—almost. His wings, tucked close to his back, were a constant reminder of what he had become. Sometimes, he could swear they pulsed, as if alive with something ancient, something beyond his understanding. Was he even still Kieran Vale? Or was he just the echo of the man who had fallen into the ice?

  "You don't like this, do you?" Evelyn's voice cut through his thoughts one evening as they walked along the courtyard, her tone gentle but knowing.

  Kieran blinked, glancing down at her. "What?"

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  "Being here. Guarding me." She turned her face slightly toward him, as if she could somehow see the tension woven into his frame. "You feel caged."

  He exhaled. "I'm not used to staying in one place."

  She nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "You sound like a man still trying to convince himself he belongs somewhere."

  Kieran's jaw tensed. Because she was right.

  "Then why did you accept my father's offer so quickly?" she asked.

  Kieran's gaze darkened. Because of the Wild Dominion. Because of what they did.

  But he didn't answer. Not yet.

  Before Evelyn could press further, a guard approached, bowing respectfully.

  "Lord Fairmont requests Kieran's presence immediately."

  Kieran followed the guard to Fairmont's private study. The lord stood near a massive oak desk, maps and documents spread before him. He looked up as Kieran entered, his expression unreadable.

  "We've uncovered something," Lord Fairmont said, motioning for Kieran to step closer. "A secret underground arena—owned and operated by the Wild Dominion."

  Kieran's eyes narrowed. "An arena? What are they using it for?"

  Fairmont's fingers tapped against the desk. "Illegal fights. Beastborne combatants forced into blood sport. Some fight willingly; others don't. It's a place where power is tested, and alliances are formed. If the Wild Dominion is gathering strength there, we need to know."

  Kieran folded his arms. "What do you want me to do?"

  Fairmont's gaze hardened. "Infiltrate it. Find out who's running it. And if you can… send them a message."

  Kieran smirked. "Sounds like my kind of place."

  As he turned to leave, Lord Fairmont's voice stopped him. "Kieran."

  He looked back.

  "Remember—this is a world of monsters. Some hide their teeth behind smiles. Others bare them openly. Don't let either fool you."

  Kieran gave a small nod before disappearing into the night, his wings carrying him toward the city's underbelly.

  The hunt had begun.