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... ing out beneath him like a chessboard he wasn’t done playing with.

He stared for a long time, jaw flexing slightly as the silence settled thick around him.

"That’s the thing about kids," he muttered, voice low but firm.

"They think it’s all about heart. About moments. They believe if they just play well enough, run hard enough, the world will hand them everything."

He turned from the glass, pacing slowly, controlled—measured.

"They don’t understand the mac ...

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He was Chaos, the shattering soul that was deemed to wreak havoc and the cause of thousands of deaths.

Fear was a cloak that engulfed his existence.

He didn’t want anything except to find every piece of his damn soul, until the little white wolf entered his life. He wanted her.

Chaos didn’t care if he had to spill blood more than necessary, still he wanted her.

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