The conference room at Dairfax headquarters was silent when Lucas Kain entered.

  Twelve board members sat around the long obsidian table, hands folded, expressions guarded. The floor-to-ceiling windows behind them overlooked New Era, a city that still believed Dairfax was nothing more than a defense contractor with clean hands and a polished public face.

  Lucas stood at the head of the table.

  “Let us begin,” he said calmly.

  A pause followed. Then he continued.

  “Unfortunately, our CEO, Dick Rose, is no longer with us. He passed away unexpectedly last night.”

  The room shifted. Chairs creaked. A low murmur rippled through the table.

  “When did this happen?” Bob Stewart asked.

  “Yesterday morning,” Lucas replied. “He was found on his front porch. Paramedics attempted resuscitation, but there was nothing they could do. No official cause has been released.”

  The silence returned, heavier than before.

  “So what happens now?” James Pierce asked.

  Lucas smiled faintly. “I am glad you asked.”

  He clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace slowly.

  “We are moving forward with the next phase of Project Resurrection. Everything remains on schedule. In fact, we are ahead of it.”

  Bob frowned. “Ahead, based on what evidence?”

  “Let us just say I have firsthand proof that our serum works,” Lucas said.

  Several board members exchanged looks.

  “And for the sake of continuity and leadership,” Lucas added, stopping at the head of the table, “I will be assuming the role of CEO effective immediately.”

  No objections came. None dared.

  “All right,” James said cautiously. “Then tell us about the subject you captured. What is her current status?”

  “You are referring to Dr. Sheryl Brown,” Lucas said. “She is stable. And she will soon become one of our most effective operatives.”

  “How soon?” Jimmy Fears asked.

  “Tomorrow.”

  The word landed hard.

  “Tomorrow?” Bob repeated.

  “Yes,” Lucas said. “Once her memory is wiped, she will be converted into a compliant asset. No hesitation. No emotional interference. Only execution.”

  He leaned forward, placing both hands on the table.

  “And that is not all. Our serum will allow us to create the perfect specimen. Man and beast unified. They will enforce policy, eliminate threats, and ensure Dairfax never answers to anyone again.”

  A few smiles appeared now—greedy ones.

  “We want to witness the process,” Bob said.

  “That can be arranged,” Lucas replied. “All board members will be present tomorrow evening. Seven sharp.”

  He straightened.

  “Tomorrow marks the beginning of our next dynasty. And the United States government will regret the day they decided to cut ties with us.”

  __________________________________________________________________________

  Minutes later, Lucas descended into the facility's lower levels.

  The holding area was cold, sterile, and deliberately oppressive. Sheryl Brown sat restrained within the containment chamber, chains securing her wrists and ankles, her body subdued by constant injections. Yet even weakened, the air around her carried a predatory tension.

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  Lucas stopped just outside the glass.

  “Good morning, Dr. Brown,” he said.

  Sheryl lifted her head.

  The change in him was immediate. His scent. His posture. The way his eyes lingered on her was like a rival rather than a captor.

  “You are territorial,” Lucas said softly. “You know that, do you not?”

  Sheryl said nothing.

  “But this is not your territory,” he continued. “This belongs to Dairfax.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “You probably noticed,” Lucas went on, smiling, “I am like you now.”

  Sheryl stared at him. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

  “Why would I not?” Lucas replied. “It feels incredible.”

  “You will regret this,” she said.

  “No,” Lucas answered. “I will not.”

  He stepped closer to the glass.

  “You should enjoy today, Sheryl. Because tomorrow, everything you are disappears. Your memories. Your attachments. Your son.”

  Her breath hitched.

  “The only thing that will remain,” Lucas said, “is Death Claw.”

  He tilted his head.

  “I know you are wondering when Derek will come for you. He will. He knows where we are. He slaughtered my men to find it.”

  Sheryl’s eyes burned yellow for a brief moment before fading again.

  “But by the time he arrives,” Lucas said calmly, “it will already be too late.”

  She growled, low and furious, straining against the chains.

  “Are you angry?” Lucas asked. “Do you want to transform?”

  He smiled.

  “Too bad.”

  As he turned to leave, Sheryl’s composure finally cracked.

  “I am going to kill you,” she screamed.

  Lucas did not turn around.

  Her voice broke then. The rage collapsed into sobs. The chains rattled as her body shook, not with power but with despair.

  The Death Claw was still alive.

  But for the first time, she was truly wounded.

  _________________________________________________________________________

  In Bayou Mounds, night settled in heavy and quiet, the kind of stillness that made every sound feel deliberate.

  Derek’s makeshift command center glowed in the darkness of his garage. Monitors lined the walls, maps pinned with red markers, weapons stacked with methodical care. The SUV he had taken from the Dairfax operatives sat outside, stripped of anything useful, its secrets already harvested.

  Derek stood at the center table, removing the GPS tracker from the vehicle’s undercarriage and placing it beside a tablet displaying schematics.

  “There are two facilities,” he said, his voice steady but tight. “Dairfax headquarters, and the lab.”

  Olivia leaned against the table, arms crossed, eyes scanning the digital map. “They separated administration from experimentation. Smart.”

  “Smart enough to think it would protect them,” Derek replied. “I want them to pay for what they did to my mother.”

  He zoomed in on the headquarters building. “We hit this first. Blow it apart. Pull every resource they have to the surface.”

  Olivia glanced at him. “You sound like Rambo.”

  Derek almost smiled. “Do you doubt I can pull it off?”

  She studied him for a moment. “Do you have the resources?”

  “I have grenades. C4. An AT4. An RPG. And I still have silver nitrate explosives left over from Everdale.”

  Olivia exhaled softly. “You really do not let go of anything.”

  “You taught me not to.”

  She shook her head, then leaned in, tracing a route across the map with her finger. “We move at night. NVGs. We detonate headquarters first as a diversion.”

  She tapped the screen again. “Sheryl is here. Sub Level Three. Containment Wing. Reinforced, but not armored. We breach with C4, grab her, and move along the extraction route you marked. They will be dealing with fire and chaos, not a two-person entry team.”

  Derek nodded. “If that fails…”

  “I know,” Olivia said. “You let the beast out.”

  His jaw tightened. “I am not leaving without her.”

  “Then we do what we have to do,” Olivia said quietly. “If that means you become a monster, so be it. This is a war zone.”

  They stood there for a moment, the weight of tomorrow pressing down on them.

  “We prep at first light,” Olivia said. “We move tomorrow night.”

  Derek nodded. “Tomorrow.”

  Hours later, inside the Dairfax laboratory facility, the air felt colder.

  Dr. Carlos Marsh stood alone in the sterile glow of the refrigeration room, clipboard in hand. Tomorrow loomed over him like a sentence he could not appeal. He had complied because he had to. Because threats against his family left him no other choice.

  He checked the inventory again.

  Several serum capsules were missing.

  Marsh frowned, heart rate rising. “That is not possible,” he muttered.

  The door opened behind him.

  “Victoria,” he said without turning. “We are missing samples.”

  “No, we are not,” Dr. Cunningham replied calmly.

  Marsh turned. “Several capsules are gone. Do you know what happened to them?”

  She smiled faintly. “Lucas will look into it.”

  “That is not an answer,” Marsh said. “What happened to the serum?”

  She turned slowly, her expression changing. When she faced him again, her eyes burned yellow. Fangs pressed against her lower lip.

  Marsh froze.

  In one motion, she seized him by the throat and slammed him against a steel table. The impact rattled instruments and sent his clipboard skidding across the floor.

  “Listen carefully,” she said, her voice layered with a deep animal resonance. “I took the serum. Lucas took the serum. We are werewolves now.”

  Marsh gasped, hands clawing at her wrist. “You have lost your mind. The trials were not complete.”

  “We are the trials,” she snarled, laughing as her grip tightened. “And with your help, we are going to create more.”

  “This will destroy everything,” Marsh rasped. “You have no idea what you have unleashed.”

  She leaned closer, her breath hot against his face. “Oh, I know exactly what we unleashed.”

  She released him suddenly, sending him collapsing to the floor.

  “Get out,” she said. “And do not ask questions again.”

  Marsh scrambled to his feet and fled the room, the echo of her growl following him down the corridor.

  Alone now, Cunningham turned toward the reflective surface of a steel cabinet. Her pupils flared. Her breathing deepened. Muscles twitched beneath her skin.

  She struck the mirror with her fist, shattering it in a burst of glass.

  The serum had fully taken hold.

  Transformation was coming.

  With Dick Rose dead and Dairfax leaderless, Lucas Kain and Victoria Cunningham’s influence spread rapidly through the company’s veins. They were no longer interested in serving Dairfax.

  They intended to burn it down from the inside.

  And rebuild it in their own image.

  The resurrection had begun.