Chapter 120
Kross
Out of nowhere, the cries came like knives, ripping through the suffocating scarlet haze.
“Help!”
Vanya’s voice. Fragile, breaking. "Kross! Please help me."
My chest seized. My head snapped toward the sound, and without thought, my legs carried me across the crimson wasteland. Everything was red—sky, ground, even the air bled color—but her voice was the only anchor in this storm. I pushed harder, faster, but no matter how far I ran, she wasn’t there.
Then—her cry twisted. Pain, sharp and raw, tore through her scream before it splintered into something else.
Laughter.
High. Warped. Inhuman.
My body froze mid-stride, the muscles in my jaw locking so tight I tasted iron.
“Oh, my poor boy,” the voice crooned, sliding across the landscape like smoke. It wasn’t male.
