Gray's breath hitched as a sudden chill ran down his spine. It wasn't just the fear now—it was something more, something sinister. He felt it first as a pressure, faint at the edges of his consciousness, but then it grew, solidifying into the distinct sensation of hands. Fingers, delicate yet unnervingly strong, slid along his arms, his chest, his neck.
He knew it wasn't real. It couldn't be. And yet, the phantom touch was so vivid, so invasive, that his body reacted instinctively, his muscles tightening as though to fend off an unseen assailant.
A voice, smooth and teasing, whispered in his ear, its tone dripping with cruel amusement. This was that entity of vengeance he had met within his mind. The bloodline will of vengeance.
