The chamber shook as if the titan skeleton beneath us was waking again.
Dust rained from the ribs overhead in shimmering sheets. Cracks ran through the bone walls like spreading veins. Eidos steadied himself against the altar ruins, his half formed body flickering between solid bone, shadow, and blinding white light.
His vessel was broken.
And he blamed us.
His silver red eyes burned with fury as he lifted his gaze toward Jax and me.
“You ruined it,” Eidos hissed. “You forced my evolution early.”
Jax stepped forward, the amber glow around his body intensifying. His presence filled the chamber like warm flame pushing back the cold. He placed himself directly in front of me, claws half formed, muscles coiled in protective instinct.
“You will not touch her again,” he said, voice steady
