Burning Passion: Love Never Die

Both he and Marcus were sculpted by Raven Island’s crucible. Memories of the experience evoked a hellish panorama.

Victor was ice and cruelty incarnate, his legacy offering no quarter simply due to their blood ties.

Rain poured relentlessly, cascading over tens of thousands of acres of dense woodland, where they grappled with ferocious beasts armed only with their bare hands and where bullets mimicking raindrops sought their flesh. A narrative of cruelty could alone capture life on Raven Island. There was no concept of mercy within the training crucible. The sole preoccupation was survival—a yearning to emerge from this infernal expanse and be liberated from its clutches.

Death equated to forfeiture.

Bruce possessed little doubt that, were he and Marcus to perish during training, not a tear would grace Victor’s eye. In his eyes, fledglings who couldn’t endure the crucible weren’t worthy of claiming the status of his grandsons.

A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y

Yet even in this, Marcus excelled. His performance was extraordinary. Across myriad facets, he showcased prodigious prowess. Within the team, he unfailingly excelled. As a drillmaster, he exuded a chilling aloofness, instilling fear in all.

toward Marcus. Both products of the

presence, Bruce often felt invisible, relegated to the

was Mr. Fairclough who extended an invitation to

feigned casual stroll, yet her gaze inadvertently darted

induced a_ rapid heartbeat. Hastily,

epitomized perfection. He eclipsed even the most renowned of movie stars, captivating

and Mr. Fairclough finally

Fairclough’s assistant,

until next

He surveyed the surroundings but couldn’t

in wine—an imprudent choice

was ill-advised