by Litit
Born to a clan of healers, he was the miracle child with gentle hands, a soft smile, and a vow to cure his mother’s incurable illness. In a world that worshipped light and sanctified healing, he was the angel everyone trusted, even as his own body faltered. But angels wear masks. Behind the smile lay sleepless nights and a hunger he could never name. When one accusation tore away his facade, when a single taste of blood revealed the truth, trust turned to disgust and the word monster followed him everywhere. He did not choose the whispers in his dreams. He did not choose the hunger in his veins. But if kindness meant weakness, he would cast it aside. If betrayal was survival’s price, then let the world burn. The angel is gone. The mask is shattered. The last of his cursed bloodline has awakened.
