The moment Samuel's wings unfurled, the entire world seemed to hold its breath.
Not bat wings.
Not twisted demonic limbs.
Not the corrupted mutation Stephen once predicted he would grow into.
These wings were something else entirely—
vast, magnificent, and sculpted from pure crimson fire.
The flames didn't burn him.
They danced around him like loyal guardians, swirling in steady waves that made the very air ripple with heat and power. The ground beneath Samuel cracked in a perfect circle, unable to withstand the sheer force of what he had become.
A prince reborn.
A king awakened.
A destiny no longer chained.
Stephen's eyes stretched wide, shock trembling through him. "NO! YOU ARE NOT—!"
Samuel lifted his hand.
He didn't shout.
He didn't rage.
He simply willed, and Stephen's body was yanked forward by an invisible force so powerful it bent the air around him.
"You stole everything from me," Samuel said, voice steady, deadly, final. "I'm taking it back."
