Ramses pov
The viscous liquid poured over us like thick mucus mixed with something foul and burning. It clung to my skin, soaking into the fur on my bull neck and human shoulders, stinging like a thousand fire ants biting at once.
I gasped, trying to wipe it off, but it only spread more, turning my smooth hide into a slippery, disgusting mess. The smell was atrocious — rotten eggs and something metallic, like old blood left in the sun. My men around me in the back of the black van coughed and cursed, some shifting back to human form just to breathe better. The Likanos bastards laughed as they slammed the van doors shut again.
"What the fuck is this shit?" I growled, my voice rough from the battle. My human legs throbbed where the lion had sunk his teeth in, blood still oozing slow and sticky. The horn on my bull head bent painfully from the fight, sending sharp jolts every time the van hit a bump. I couldn't pass out. Not here. Not in front of my soldiers.
