"Show-off," Nadya called out, her tone casual, almost too casual for someone who'd just watched her companion brutally butcher fifteen armed mercenaries.
She stood on the bridge above, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. But even from that distance, her eyes flicked briefly toward the carnage below - the blood-slick floor, the twisted limbs, the lingering scent of gunpowder and iron that clung to the air like a curse.
Kai looked up at her and grinned, that same wicked, unbothered grin that sent chills crawling up even Nadya's spine. He raised a hand and gave a lazy salute. "Hey, you said I could let loose."
His boots splashed through puddles of crimson as he stepped over a fallen mercenary, one of the few still twitching from shock. Kai's pulse was still roaring, blood still hot, still singing under his skin. Ever since he'd stopped trying to suppress it - the hunger, the thrill - it felt easier. Purer.
