Veyrath

47

Everyone fears him. They should. He was raised to kill before he was taught to feel. At six, he watched his father choose power over blood— and his mother die because of it. He didn't cry. He remembered. Years later, the family that replaced her began to fall. One by one. Quietly. Perfectly. Accidents, they called it. He called it balance. Now his stepmother breathes but cannot move. His father lives—but owns nothing. And he sits at the top of what used to belong to them. Untouchable. Unfeeling. Unbreakable. Until he sees you.