I sniffed the blood on the ground, the sharp metallic scent flooding my senses, stirring something wild within me. My heart raced, the primal hunger creeping in. The blood was fresh, and it beckoned, filling me with a dangerous energy. I forced myself to focus, pushing the rabid urge aside. This wasn't the time to lose control. Not when there was work to be done.

I had managed to carve out my little farm amidst the chaos—its quiet, controlled life a sharp contrast to the brutal world surrounding me. The farm was my sanctuary, but it wasn't complete without my ice castle looming on the horizon, towering, grand, a reminder of my power. It was more than just a structure—it was a symbol of my strength, built with my own claws, my own rage. But today, something threatened that peace.

The rabbits. Those clever little creatures had somehow escaped, slipping through the cracks of my control. Their antics had made a mess, and now I had to clean up.

Ocean, the blue sea dragon, stood near me, her form glistening as the soft waves of the sea broke against her scales. She was apologizing again, lowering her head in submission.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice sincere but tinged with worry. "Really, I am, your highness."

I took a slow, controlled breath, my claws digging into the earth as I kept my focus on the task at hand. I couldn't afford to lose my temper—not yet.

Shifting my stance, I turned to face her fully. Her eyes were wide with concern, but I had no time for it. I had to act.

"Find them," I commanded coolly, my voice unwavering. "I want them captured before sunset tomorrow. If you can't find them, kill the others."

Her eyes flickered with hesitation, but she nodded, understanding the gravity of my words. Ocean had always been loyal, and her skill in tracking was unparalleled. But there was no room for failure now. The rabbits had cost me enough already. If she didn't return with them by nightfall, I would have no choice but to make an example out of the others.

I didn't care for apologies or excuses. Only results.

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The scent of blood filled the air, sharp and intoxicating. My eyes locked onto the buck in the distance, its wounded form staggering through the underbrush, leaving a trail of crimson behind it. I had marked this one weeks ago, a gash from my claws still fresh in its side. Now, the creature was vulnerable—struggling to survive—but I knew it wouldn't escape me.

The buck limped toward a nearby tree, seeking shelter, its legs trembling under the weight of its injuries. I hovered silently in the shadows, letting the moment stretch, savoring the anticipation. The forest was still, save for the wind whispering through the leaves. My muscles coiled, ready for the strike.

I smirked, a low, predatory sound rumbling in my chest. Slowly, I moved closer, my steps calculated and deliberate. I shushed softly, a taunting sound, as if trying to lull it into a false sense of security.

But the deer, despite its weariness, was no fool. Its beady eyes locked onto mine, wide with terror, and a shrill cry broke from its throat. It bolted.

The chase was on.

In an instant, I was on it, my claws sinking deep into the buck's rump as it tried to flee. It kicked and struggled, but I was faster, my speed unmatched. I reached its head and clamped down on its horns, twisting with brutal force. The resistance was brief—an agonized shriek—and then the sound of bone snapping filled the air. I ripped its head backwards, snapping its neck with a sickening crunch.

The deer crumpled to the ground, its body falling limp and lifeless against the soft forest floor.

I stood over it, panting, my chest rising and falling with the rush of victory. The hunt was over, and once again, the forest belonged to me.

"That was one hell of a hunt," came a smooth, cheerful voice from behind me, casual and unbothered by the raw brutality of the scene.

I turned sharply, my red eyes narrowing as I took in the figure before me. A man with striking red wings stood leaning against a tree, his blonde hair tousled by the wind, and his golden eyes glinting with amusement. He smirked at me, his sharp teeth catching the light as he casually popped a piece of what looked like an apple mix into his mouth, completely unfazed by the lifeless buck at my feet.

I knew him immediately. Of course, I did.

The winged hero, Hawks. No. 4—or was it No. 3 now?—of the hero society. His reputation preceded him, though I hadn't expected him to waltz into my hunting grounds with that smug grin plastered across his face.

"And to what do I owe the honor, Mr. Hawks?" I said coolly, my tail flicking behind me as I straightened up, trying to mask the irritation bubbling beneath my surface.

The man chuckled, the sound light and playful, as if we were old friends sharing a joke instead of a predator and a hero squaring off in the middle of the woods. "Oh please, none of that formal stuff. Just call me Keigo," he said, his wings flaring slightly as he stepped closer.

He tilted his head, his smirk deepening, as if he were savoring some unspoken secret. "After all," he continued, his tone laced with a mix of charm and mischief, "you and I are to be partners."

I froze, the word partners hanging heavily in the air between us. My eyes narrowed further, suspicion prickling at the edges of my mind. I didn't trust his easygoing demeanor or the glint of amusement in his eyes. Heroes didn't partner with creatures like me.

"What do you mean, partners?" I asked, my voice low, each syllable carrying a hint of a growl.

Keigo just laughed, his golden eyes twinkling as if he were enjoying my confusion far too much. "Oh, don't worry, Onyx. You'll find out soon enough."

Hawks' smirk didn't falter, not even as I bristled with hostility, my quills rattling and my teeth bared in warning. Instead, he reached out with a surprising gentleness that belied the tension in the air and cupped my cheek. His hand was warm, steady, a contrast to my own simmering rage.

"But first," he said, his voice still light and teasing, "you and I are going to the principal's station. You've been messing around where you shouldn't."

The audacity of his words sent a fresh surge of irritation coursing through me. My tail lashed behind me, cutting into the earth with a thud, as I glared at him, unyielding. "Just because the government has custody over me doesn't mean I need to listen to every whim of their little things," I snarled, my voice a low, guttural bark that echoed through the clearing.

I leaned closer, the space between us crackling with tension as I bared my sharp teeth. My red eyes locked onto his golden ones, the warning clear in my tone. "I can kill each and every one of you so-called heroes in my sleep if I want to. So watch your tongue, hero."

The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp as a blade, but Hawks didn't so much as flinch. Instead, his smirk widened slightly, and his thumb brushed against the side of my face as if soothing a restless beast.

"Yeah, I figured you might say something like that," he said casually, his tone maddeningly unbothered. "But see, the thing is... you haven't. You won't." His eyes softened, but his smirk remained. "Because as much as you hate us, you care more than you let on. You've saved people, Onyx. Including one of my kids back there."

His words, infuriatingly calm, struck a chord somewhere deep inside me, and I hated that they did. He leaned in slightly, his gaze unwavering. "So, yeah. Watch my tongue? Sure, I'll keep that in mind. But for now, let's get moving."

He dropped his hand and stepped back, the challenge in his smirk unmistakable, daring me to retaliate—or follow.