A deep, primal energy coursed through Kenneth's veins. He felt it the moment he woke up—the pull of something ancient, something powerful. His body was still battered, his wrists still shackled, silver chains pressing against his skin. But tonight… tonight was different.
Tonight was the full moon.
A slow, sharp inhale filled his lungs. The pain from the silver should have been unbearable, but instead, it felt distant—almost irrelevant. His pulse quickened, but not from fear. From power.
Kenneth lifted his head. His vision sharpened, the dim light in the underground chamber suddenly too bright, every detail crisp and clear. He could hear the faintest movements beyond the heavy iron door—the subtle breathing of his captors, the shifting of boots on stone. His body felt lighter, stronger, like every cell was coming alive.
Then came the chains.
He tugged at them experimentally. Before, they had held him down like an anchor. But now… something had changed. He gripped the chains and pulled.
Snap.
The iron links shattered like brittle twigs, scattering across the ground. The sudden noise echoed through the chamber, and within seconds, hurried footsteps sounded from beyond the door.
Kenneth rolled his shoulders, the tension in his body replaced by an intoxicating rush of strength. He stepped forward just as the door swung open, revealing not two, but fifteen armed hunters. Their eyes widened at the sight of his broken restraints.
"He's loose—"
Kenneth moved before the words were even fully spoken.
The first hunter raised his crossbow, but Kenneth was already in front of him. With a single swipe, he sent the weapon flying, then grabbed the man by the collar and threw him across the room. The second hunter barely had time to react before Kenneth seized him, slamming him against the cold stone wall. A sickening crack followed as the man crumpled.
More came at him.
One swung a silver baton at his head. Kenneth caught it mid-air, the silver burning into his palm—except… it didn't. He didn't even flinch. The hunter stared in horror as Kenneth yanked the weapon away and snapped it in half like a twig before driving his fist into the man's stomach. The hunter flew backward, colliding into two others, sending them all sprawling.
Arrows whizzed past him—some struck his arms, his chest. Silver-tipped bolts. He yanked them out effortlessly, dropping them to the floor. The hunters hesitated now. They had expected him to weaken, to writhe in pain.
Instead, Kenneth smiled.
His muscles coiled like springs as he launched himself forward. A brutal kick sent one hunter flying into a steel cabinet. He dodged another blade, countering with a swipe of his claws across the attacker's chest. Blood splattered against the stone wall.
A net was suddenly thrown over him, weighted with silver rings. For a moment, he staggered under the weight, but then, with a low growl, he tore through it with ease, the chains snapping apart in his grip. More hunters rushed him at once, blades slashing, batons swinging. He moved between them like a phantom, his speed unnatural, overwhelming.
One hunter tried to stab him through the back, but Kenneth spun and grabbed the blade with his bare hand. He felt the silver—it was cool against his skin, not searing, not deadly. The hunter's eyes widened in terror.
Kenneth leaned in, his voice a low growl. "Silver doesn't work on me anymore."
With a swift motion, he shattered the blade with his grip and sent the hunter crashing into the wall with a single punch.
The remaining hunters were panicking now. The realization had dawned on them: they couldn't stop him.
Kenneth moved with deadly precision, weaving between attacks, countering with brutal efficiency. Another went down with a broken arm, another with a shattered leg. One tried to flee, but Kenneth caught him, slamming him into the ground so hard the stone cracked beneath them.
Only one was left standing now. The man who had first entered, the one who had been interrogating him earlier. He trembled as Kenneth stalked toward him, crimson eyes glowing in the dim light.
Kenneth seized him by the collar and lifted him off the ground with one hand. "Where is Max?" His voice was deeper, more commanding, as if something primal had laced itself into his words.
The hunter clenched his jaw. "I—I don't—"
Kenneth's patience snapped. He dug his claws into the man's shoulder, drawing blood. "Where is Max?!"
A strangled cry escaped the hunter's lips. "The—the abandoned church! They took him there!"
Kenneth narrowed his eyes. "Who took him?"
The hunter hesitated for a split second too long.
Kenneth growled, his grip tightening. "Don't make me ask again."
The hunter gasped. "The—Silver Cross Order! High Command wanted him alive! They think he knows something about—" He winced in pain. "I don't know what, I swear!"
Kenneth processed the information quickly. An abandoned church. High Command. Whatever the reason, they hadn't killed Max yet. That meant he had a chance.
The hunter coughed, his face pale. "Silver… why isn't it affecting you?"
Kenneth glanced down at his arms. The silver shackles had burned him before, left painful welts on his skin. Now? Nothing. The metal was cold, but it didn't weaken him. It didn't hurt him.
The hunter's eyes were filled with something Kenneth didn't expect—fear.
"You're not a normal werewolf," he whispered. "What are you?"
A voice interrupted them. "I'd like to know that myself." A gunshot rang out, but it did nothing to Kenneth.
Kenneth turned, his glowing red eyes locking onto the scientist—the same silver-haired woman who had ordered his torture. But now, she was different. She wasn't standing tall, wasn't in control. She was pressed against the far wall, her breathing uneven. Fear radiated from her.
Kenneth tilted his head. "You seemed so confident before."
She swallowed hard, gripping a syringe in one trembling hand. "We—We only wanted to study you. To understand what you are."
Kenneth took a slow step forward. "You experimented on me. You tortured Max. And now you want something from me?"
The woman's fingers tightened around the syringe. "You don't have to do this."
Kenneth's smirk faded. "No. But I want to."
In an instant, he lunged. She barely had time to let out a scream before his claws tore through her, silencing her forever.
Kenneth exhaled, his body relaxing as he turned toward the exit.
He had someone to save.
And a war to start.