The Capture
Jace Carter had been a survivor. A fighter. A ghost in the streets, too fast, too sharp, too damn clever to be caught.
Until now.
One moment, he had been running through the dark alley, the sound of sirens wailing in the distance, his pulse hammering with adrenaline. The next?
A sharp sting to his neck.
A wave of dizziness.
And then--nothing.
When he woke, he was no longer free.
The room was sterile, cold, with an air of inhuman detachment. His arms and legs were restrained, held tight in a metal examination chair, leaving him spread, naked, vulnerable, powerless.
Panic surged through him. He thrashed against the cuffs, his bare chest heaving.
Then, a voice. Smooth, clinical, amused.
"You're awake."
Dr. Mercer.
A name spoken in fearful whispers in the underground. A researcher with no ethics, no limits, no remorse.
And she had chosen him.
Jace bared his teeth, yanking at the restraints. "Let me go, you sick bitch!"
A gloved hand seized his chin, forcing his head still.
Dr. Mercer smiled. "Shh. You won't need to worry about silly things like talking back soon."
His pulse spiked.
Then, he saw the syringe.
A vial of shimmering, iridescent serum held between her fingers.
"The Aphrodite Serum," she murmured. "Designed to reshape, rewire, and redefine." Her thumb brushed his lower lip, making his stomach twist.
"Say goodbye, Jace," she whispered.
The needle plunged into his neck.
And his world exploded.
The Transformation
Jace's body convulsed, his muscles spasming violently as the serum tore through him, liquefying everything that made him strong, sharp, fast.
His shoulders cracked inward, narrowing into delicate, elegant slopes. His arms slimmed, his fingers trembling as their roughness faded, becoming dainty, fragile, pretty.
His waist caved inward, his hips rounding slightly, his thighs softening into smooth, supple curves.
