Chapter 3: Red Crimson Eyes
Noah dropped from the tree without a sound.
His landing was soft, knees bent, arms low—like a panther moving through the underbrush. In the pale light of the rising moon, he pulled the dark hood over his head and adjusted the smooth black mask over his face.
Only his eyes remained visible.
Crimson.
They gleamed faintly beneath the shadow of the hood, glowing like twin embers in the dark.
He looked up.
The mansion loomed behind the treeline, quiet and still. Somewhere inside those walls, Cael was moving.
Noah exhaled slowly.
He reached for the blowgun slung behind his belt and gave it a final check. The bamboo was polished, oiled, and ready. Three darts rested in a hidden pouch at his waist—already laced with paralytic toxin.
He took one last glance behind him, ensuring no one had followed.
Then, without hesitation, he stepped into the night like a ghost born from vengeance.