Chapter 6 - The Awakening of the BeastThe alarms shrieked through the quiet bedroom, echoing like sirens down the marble hallways of the Kane estate.
Dr. Whitfield staggered backward, dropping his leather case. The glass vials inside shattered against the hardwood floor with a sharp, explosive crash. He stared at the bed in absolute, paralyzed terror.
"That's... that's impossible," Whitfield stammered, his face turning the color of curdled milk. "The dosage... the Aethel-9 should have kept him under for another twenty-four hours!"
Everett Kane sat fully upright in the bed.
The heavy IV lines snapped like dry twigs. The medical electrodes ripped away from his chest as he swung his legs over the side of the mattress. Standing at six-foot-two, he towered over Whitfield, his broad shoulders casting a menacing shadow across the room.
He didn't look like a man who had spent eight months in a coma. He looked like an apex predator waking up from a brief, inconvenient nap, surrounded by jackals.
"You..." Everett’s voice was a low, thunderous growl that vibrated in the glass windows. "You miserable coward."
Whitfield stumbled back toward the door, his hands shaking uncontrollably. "Everett—listen to me—Sterling ordered it—I was just following—"
Before Whitfield could finish his sentence, heavy footsteps pounded down the hallway. The door burst open, and Crowley rushed in, followed by two armed bodyguards in black suits.
"Mr. Kane?!" Crowley gasped, stopping dead in his tracks, his eyes bulging as he stared at Everett standing upright by the bed. "What is the meaning of this—"
"The meaning," Everett said coldly, taking a slow, heavy step forward, "is that your employment here has just been terminated."
The two bodyguards instinctively reached for the holsters beneath their suit jackets.
They never got the chance.
Willa moved with lightning speed. She kicked the shattered glass across the floor directly into the path of the nearest guard’s foot, while simultaneously grabbing the heavy oxygen tank beside the bed and swinging it with all her might into the back of the second guard’s knees.
The first guard slipped hard on the glass, crashing backward into the doorframe. The second guard buckled, dropping to the floor with a groan.
Everett didn't waste a second. He closed the distance between himself and Crowley with terrifying speed, his large hand clamping around the estate manager’s throat and lifting him an inch off the floor.
"Sterling," Everett snarled, his gray eyes flashing with lethal intent. "Where is he?"
"Downstairs... in the library," Crowley choked out, his face turning purple, his hands clawing desperately at Everett’s iron grip.
Everett tossed him aside like a discarded rag doll. Crowley hit the floor coughing and gasping for air.
Everett turned his head, looking down at Willa. His expression softened just a fraction, a rare, fierce respect burning in his eyes.
"Stay here," Everett commanded quietly.
"Like hell I will," Willa replied, picking up a heavy steel medical tray from the table. "You've been in a coma for eight months. You need backup."
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Everett looked at her stubborn, fearless expression, and for the first time in eight months, a genuine, terrifying smile spread across his face.
"Come along then, wife," he said. "Let's go greet my cousin."
