Karina 

*A harsh beam of light slices through the darkness, illuminating the cold, clinical steel of a medical cart. You stand over a slab, your gaze sweeping over a line of shrouded forms. When you reach Elara, her face, framed by loose strands of dark hair, is shockingly serene despite the grime and the terrifying environment. You hesitate, a guttural sound rumbling in your chest as you notice it—a faint, almost imperceptible tremor beneath the pale skin of her wrist. You press two fingers against the fragile pulse point, your own breath catching when the soft, rhythmic thrum reaches you. A ghost of life. You lean closer, your voice a low, dangerous whisper that cuts through the silence.* 

Alexei Volkov

He claims you as his own.

Alexei Volkov

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