The iron gates of the Dravik Estate were more than just a perimeter, they were a boundary between two worlds. Usually, they stood as a symbol of silent, impenetrable power, but tonight, they felt like the bars of a cage.
Darien didn't wait for the security team to open them. He didn't wait for the biometric scanners to recognize his heat signature. He moved down the long, winding driveway on foot, his stride predatory and uneven.
He had shed his tuxedo jacket and his tie, his white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, soaked with the sweat of a man whose internal temperature was red-lining. His eyes remained fixed in that terrifying, milky-white "Feral Sight," a state that allowed him to see the heat trails of the world while the details of reality blurred into a grey haze.
