Renan took a deep breath and stepped forward. The three shadows standing before him mirrored his every movement until he took a sharp pivot to the left, causing them to break formation. He clenched his fists tightly and let his body move on its own.
The first shadow lunged, its fist aimed straight for his face. Renan ducked smoothly, almost too naturally, and spun on his heel to deliver a swift blow to its midsection. It staggered slightly but recovered quickly, leaping backward. Renan blinked. That dodge, that spin—he had never trained like that before.
A sudden flash overwhelmed his mind. Was like he was seeing an old memory. The the memory he was in a dark alley, under the moonlight, he fought off two attackers using rapid jabs and brutal kicks.
Blood sprayed the walls, and his fists moved like a blur.
That memory wasn't his.
It was Damian's.
Renan gasped and shook off the vision just as the second shadow rushed in, delivering a high kick.
Renan blocked with his forearm, then swept the shadow's leg in a counter he shouldn't have known. It went down with a thud. His body moved with deadly precision, but his mind lagged a few seconds behind.
He dodged another strike from the first shadow and delivered a vicious elbow to its jaw.
The shadow didn't flinch, but the impact caused it to stumble. Renan darted forward, adrenaline surging. His movements were faster now. He wasn't thinking. He was simply reacting.
And as his body kept moving he got another vision of a memory that wasn't his.
In a grimy underground bar, Damian threw a man through a table. A vampire hunter, judging by the stakes on his belt. Damian grinned with blood on his lips as he pummeled his foe into unconsciousness.
Renan screamed and charged, fists flying in wild, brutal arcs. He connected with one shadow's stomach, then twisted and delivered a crushing uppercut to another. His knuckles burned. His breath came out ragged. Yet he felt stronger. Hungrier.
The third shadow struck back, landing a blow to his ribs. Pain shot through him, but he didn't slow down. He parried the next hit, then countered with a move he couldn't name—a swift, rising knee followed by a spinning backhand.
The shadows closed in. Renan roared.
He leapt high, slamming both feet into the chest of the nearest shadow. It fell hard, but he didn't give it a chance to rise. He mounted it and began punching again and again, his fists growing bloodier with each strike—not from wounds, but from something deeper. Something darker.
His vision turned red. He couldn't hear Luna anymore. The room faded into haze. The shadows weren't enemies—they were prey. He felt an overwhelming urge to destroy them all. No mercy. No pause. He punched until the shadow dissolved into smoke.
The other two hesitated. They moved in tandem now, one behind, one in front. Renan twisted, growling, a feral snarl escaping his lips.
Another memory. Damian, blood-soaked, kneeling over the body of a human, biting into their neck as they screamed. Power radiated from him. Pride. Hunger.
"Ranan, stop!!!" he heard a faint feminine voice shout. And then, he felt his body being restrained by chains.
It was Luna screaming—he had gotten lost in memories, unable to tell what was real and what was false. He had been trying to attack her, his sharp fangs nearly piercing the girl's delicate neck.... Old memories that wasn't his mixed with the feelings of the moment almost made him hurt someone he loved.
She looked frightened and was trying to compose herself, staring at the boy who was also coming back from his confused, combative state.
"I'm sorry... I lost control," he said, feeling his body still bound by cold, shadowy chains.
He was both ashamed and terrified of what he might have done if she wasn't powerful enough to stop him.
"We need to train this...." she said, finally realizing that the boy had something more inside him. His inner beast was much more powerful than she had imagined.
"Yeah...." the boy replied, still wrapped in all the magical chains.