NYX's Arc

Chapter 2 of 5

The warmth trail led NYX to a narrow apartment building wedged between two nightclubs. He slipped through the cracked door, paws silent on worn stairs. Third floor. The scent grew stronger—not just warmth, but something else. Something that didn't belong. The apartment door hung open. NYX's ears swiveled forward. Inside, a mannequin stood by the window, its purple dress glowing with neon traces of the drag queen's warmth. The soul had been here—recently. But woven through that familiar trail was something new: cold, serpentine, vast. NYX circled the mannequin, nostrils flared. A cobra-shaped presence had passed through this room, carrying the soul's warmth like stolen heat. Not the cult. Something else entirely. On the floor near the bed, a wedding ring pulsed with faint orange light. NYX lowered his muzzle to it, breath catching. The drag queen had held this, touched it, left it behind. The warmth signature was hours old at most. But the cobra's trail was fresher—it had come after, following the same path NYX was tracking. The wolf's hackles rose. Whatever this entity was, it moved faster than him, and it was hunting the same soul. NYX picked up the ring carefully between his teeth and set it on the windowsill where moonlight could reach it. A marker, in case the soul returned. Then he turned toward the door, following the cobra's cold wake deeper into the city. The cult wasn't the only threat anymore. Something else had entered the hunt, and NYX needed to know if it meant to protect the drag queen or devour him.