Chapter 37

The afterimage of the axe-man's strike remained burned into Caleb's retinas, a ghost of sheer, unadulterated power that made the air in the hideout feel thick. He sat with his back against the rough bark of the massive tree, his breathing shallow and jagged. That single swing hadn't just been an attack; it had been a statement of existence. It had rewritten the very laws of the world for a fraction of a second, parting the sky and shattering the earth. His instincts, honed through weeks of...