Chapter 100 The Final Stand

Silas stood outside the dilapidated warehouse, the night air heavy with tension. His chest heaved, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. His usual composure was shattered. The pulse of his rage was undeniable. Genevieve was there. He could feel it. The cold, calculated man he had always been had been replaced by something primal. His sharp eyes scanned the darkened area, taking in every shadow, every movement. There was no sign of her yet, but he could hear the soft whisper of the wind, the distant rumble of a storm, as if the world itself was holding its breath.