The silver-clad scouts of the Church moved like ghosts through the underbrush. Alaric could hear their rhythmic breathing—four men, well-trained, their blades coated in holy oil meant to burn anything tainted by magic.
Evelyn watched him, her eyes cold and calculating. "The vial, Alaric. Drink it, or they will find us in three minutes. And believe me, they won't offer you a trial this time."
Alaric looked at the iridescent liquid. His hand shook. To drink this was to acknowledge that he was no longer human. But then, he looked at his claws—yes, they were claws now, sharp and dark, protruding from his steel gauntlets.
He uncorked the vial and swallowed it in one gulp.
The effect was instantaneous. It felt like liquid ice running through his veins, dulling the pain of his wounds but sharpening his senses to a terrifying degree. The forest, once dark, now glowed with thermal signatures. He could see the heat radiating from the scouts' bodies through the trees.
"Good," Evelyn whispered, her voice sounding like a melody in his heightened ears. "Now, don't just kill them. Make them a warning."
Alaric didn't wait. He vanished into the shadows, moving with a predatory grace that defied his heavy armor.
The first scout didn't even have time to scream. A dark shape blurred past him, and suddenly, he was pinned against a tree, a clawed hand crushing his windpipe. Alaric stared into the man's eyes—eyes he once recognized as a comrade's.
Feed, the heart whispered.
Alaric growled, a sound that was half-sob and half-roar. He didn't kill the man instantly. Instead, he let the darkness from his new heart seep into the scout, draining the light from the soldier's soul until the man slumped, unconscious and grey-faced.
"I won't... kill them all," Alaric panted, turning to the other three who were now scrambling in terror.
"You don't have to kill them to break them," Evelyn said, appearing behind him like a ghost. "But remember, Alaric, the more you use that power, the more of 'you' disappears. Are you prepared to lose yourself to save me?"
Alaric looked at the blood on his claws and then at the woman who had saved/cursed him. "I already lost myself the moment you opened my chest, Evelyn."