Twenty-four hours later, the results were undeniable.

  Inside the cold fluorescence of Dairfax Laboratory’s genetic analysis wing, Dr. Cunningham stepped back from the monitor, her expression tight with scientific awe and dread. Beside her, Dr. Marsh rubbed the bridge of his nose, exhausted after being forced to supervise the final round of tests.

  “Compatibility confirmed,” Cunningham said quietly. “All five samples integrated seamlessly with the serum.”

  Lucas Kain leaned forward, hands clasped behind his back. “So,” he asked, voice low and eager, “when can we begin the process?”

  Marsh turned his head sharply. “Process of doing what?”

  Lucas stared at him as though the answer were obvious. “The creation of our super soldiers. This is what all of this is for.”

  “The samples are compatible,” Lucas continued, pacing with excitement. “We should be able to start soon.”

  Dr. Cunningham folded her arms. “Compatibility doesn’t mean stability. We have no idea how a human subject will react to a direct injection. We need controlled trials. Data. Simulations. You try this on a live subject now, and you could kill them instantly.”

  Marsh nodded. “She’s right. You can’t just administer this thing without a trial run. You don’t even know the neurological impact.”

  The recommendations were the last thing Lucas wanted to hear.

  “Fine,” Lucas muttered, jaw flexing. “I’ll come up with something.”

  He turned and strode into the hallway, pulling out his phone as he moved. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered as if sensing what was coming.

  Michael Sorrenson answered on the second ring.

  “What’s up?” he said.

  “Listen carefully,” Lucas said. His voice was calm but cold enough to frost glass. “Change of plans. I know I told you to stay out of Bayou Mounds, but that’s no longer an option.”

  Michael straightened. “What do you need?”

  “You’re going to apprehend Karen Stewart,” Lucas said. “She’ll be our trial subject.”

  There was a brief silence on the other end.

  “Sir… you want me to bring her here? Alive?”

  “Yes,” Lucas said. “Alive. And uninjured. She will be the first of our new super soldiers. Do not come back without her. Are we clear?”

  “A hundred percent,” Michael replied.

  BAYOU MOUNDS – THAT AFTERNOON

  Karen Stewart walked across the supermarket parking lot with two bags in hand, keys jingling as she unlocked her Lexus sedan. She had just placed her groceries in the back seat when her instincts prickled—something felt off.

  She slid behind the wheel, checked the mirror, and froze.

  A blacked-out Dodge Durango trailed her from three rows back.

  She immediately called Derek.

  “Hey, Derek… I think those men you mentioned are following me.”

  “Oh, they are?” Derek said. His voice hardened. “Alright. Don’t panic. I’ve got a surprise for them. Hang tight.”

  Karen exhaled shakily and continued driving. A minute later, she checked the mirror again.

  The Durango was gone.

  At least, it looked gone.

  Just like the night Sheryl was taken.

  The Dairfax team had parked several blocks from Karen’s house, dismounted, and approached on foot—silent, organized, and intent.

  They split up at the edge of the neighborhood, Michael and Milina leading the third operative up the walkway toward Karen’s front porch.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  They never made it to the door.

  From the shadowed side yard, Derek and Olivia slipped through the gate, guns raised.

  “Freeze!” Olivia shouted.

  Three suppressed shots cracked like muted thunder.

  The Dairfax operatives spun, staggered, and collapsed—two dead instantly. Milina bolted toward the street, but Derek’s round caught her square between the shoulders. She dropped in the grass, unmoving.

  The front yard fell silent except for the hiss of wind through the live oaks.

  “I’ll make this go away,” Olivia said, already pulling out her burner phone. “Don’t worry.”

  Derek stepped over the bodies and rang Karen’s doorbell. She opened it with wide, trembling eyes.

  “You need to pack,” Derek said, calm but firm. “Right now. Go far away, because this is about to get ugly.”

  Karen glanced past him at the three bodies in her yard. “I… I heard the gunshots.”

  “Yeah,” Derek said. “Olivia and I took out three Dairfax operatives who were coming to kidnap you.”

  Karen’s breath hitched.

  “Olivia’s about to call in favors to clear this up,” Derek said. “But once they’re gone, grab your bags and get out. Tonight. Tell us where you go—but don’t stay here. Understood?”

  Karen nodded, voice barely audible.

  “Got it, cousin.”

  The bodies were cleared from the driveway before sunrise, and Karen slipped away from Bayou Mounds with a single suitcase and trembling hands. The neighborhood was quiet again, but the air still felt charged, as if the violence had soaked into the ground. Derek stayed behind long enough to ensure the scene was clean, then stepped into Karen’s living room and scrolled through Michael Sorrenson’s phone.

  He tapped the FaceTime icon.

  Lucas Kain answered on the second ring.

  The man’s face appeared on the screen, groggy and irritated. “Michael, what is the status of the operation?”

  Derek held the phone up so Lucas could see his eyes. “You are looking at the wrong man, Luke.”

  Lucas’s expression collapsed into shock. “You are not Michael.”

  “Your people tried to take someone close to me,” Derek said. His voice was calm, steady, but his eyes burned hot. “They failed. All three are dead.”

  Lucas blinked rapidly. “How did you—”

  “And that black Durango your people love to hide in?” Derek added. “It is sitting in my storage unit. Fully intact. All equipment accounted for. Come get it if you think you can.”

  “You have no idea what you have started,” Lucas snapped.

  “Oh, I know exactly what I have started,” Derek said. “And I am coming for you. I am coming for Dairfax. You wanted a war. Now you have one.”

  Lucas leaned forward until his face filled the entire screen. “You are in for a rude awakening.”

  “We will see,” Derek said, then ended the call without another word.

  Lucas hurled his phone across his office, the device cracking against the wall. Fury carried him down the corridor until he burst inside Chief Executive Dick Rose’s office.

  Dick looked up from his reports. “Let me guess. You failed again.”

  Lucas tried to keep his voice level. “It was supposed to be a simple retrieval. Somehow Derek found out. I cannot explain how.”

  “Did Michael not warn you?” Dick said with rising disgust. “This man is not someone you outmuscle. You outthink him. You stay two steps ahead. You failed at both.”

  Lucas clenched his jaw.

  “Three operatives dead,” Dick continued. “Three. On your watch. You want to run Project Death Claw? Start acting like the man who deserves that seat.”

  “I will correct this,” Lucas said.

  “You had better,” Dick said. He slammed his fist on the desk so hard the pens jumped. “This is your last chance.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lucas replied.

  After the meeting, he headed straight to the lab, where Dr. Cunningham reviewed the data on the serum-binding tests. “We need authorization to begin the next phase,” Lucas said.

  Dr. Cunningham did not look up from her tablet. “There are no shortcuts. Not for this. Protocol requires trial subjects, observation periods, and dose verification.”

  “Billions of dollars depend on rapid results,” Lucas said. “And many very important people are watching.”

  “Then those people will have to wait,” she answered. “I am sorry.”

  Lucas stared at her, but she would not meet his eyes. He finally nodded with a thin smile. “Fine. Have it your way.”

  He left without another word.

  Hours later, after the building emptied and the night crew settled into their stations, Lucas remained in his office alone. The silence around him felt heavy. On the computer monitor, mugshots of Derek Brown and Sheryl Brown glowed like two faces from a nightmare he could not shake.

  He pushed away from his desk and walked to the secure lab wing. The biometric doors opened with a soft click. Cold white lights flickered across rows of steel refrigeration cells. He opened one and retrieved three full capsules of the shimmering blue-black serum.

  He placed them inside a brown paper bag and slid the bag into his coat.

  When he finally reached his house, he moved with purpose. The front door shut behind him. He shrugged off his coat and walked straight to the bathroom. The overhead lights buzzed faintly as he stared at himself in the mirror.

  His reflection stared back: a stressed executive, narrowing eyes, a man tired of waiting for others to give him power.

  He removed the bag, twisted open the first capsule, and drank it down.

  The serum hit instantly. Bitter. Metallic. It burned all the way to his gut.

  He drank the second.

  Then the third.

  Lucas gripped the sink as a violent cramp tore through his abdomen. His shoulders locked, his spine twitched, and a low animal groan escaped his throat. He dropped to one knee, sweat dripping onto the tiles. His breathing grew ragged, primal.

  Slowly, the pain receded. His heartbeat steadied.

  Lucas rose to his feet and looked into the mirror again.

  His eyes glowed yellow.

  A smile crawled across his face, warped by the new sharpness in his teeth. A soft growl rolled in his chest, almost a purr, almost a warning.

  “I am waiting for you, Derek,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Come find me.”

  Lucas Kain had consumed enough serum to alter him beyond anything Death Claw had ever produced. When he finally transforms fully, he will be larger, stronger, and more lethal than any Lycan ever created by Dr. Marsh’s work.

  The creation of a new monster had just begun.