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.

were moments when jealousy stirred within Bruce toward Marcus. Both products of the

often felt invisible, relegated

hosted an ongoing dinner affair. It was Mr. Fairclough who

enacted a feigned casual stroll, yet her gaze inadvertently darted inside, causing her heart to

and resplendent countenance induced a_ rapid heartbeat. Hastily, she covered

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

Fairclough finally emerged from the

Mr. Fairclough’s assistant, awaited

Thomas, until

surveyed the surroundings but couldn’t

in wine—an imprudent

alcohol was ill-advised during his