The metallic tang of the warehouse hung heavy in the air, the silence broken only by the rhythmic drip, drip, drip of an overhead pipe. Shane stepped closer to the table, his eyes glazed with a terrifying, singular focus. He ran his thumb over a row of blades before his hand settled.
"I like this one," he whispered, lifting a gutting knife with jagged, curved edges.
The serrations caught the dim light, looking like the teeth of a predator.
"Shane! Come at me!" Sebastian roared, his voice cracking as he strained against the ropes. "Just let Amara go! This is between us. It's the Creed name you hate, not her!"
Shane turned slowly, every movement deliberate, the knife dangling loosely at his side like a predator sizing up its prey.
"Of course I'm coming after you, Sebastian," he said, voice low and laced with venom. "But I want to see the light go out of your eyes before I finish you. I heard Amara was your first love."
