Chapter 4 Shadows of the Underworld

The heavy envelope of cash tucked into Scarlett’s inner pocket felt like a warm, pulsing heart against her ribs. Fifty thousand dollars. It was a start—a small, fragile foundation for the wall she intended to build between herself and the Blood Moon that was relentlessly approaching.

As they stepped out of the gilded elevator of the penthouse, the cool night air of the city hit them, smelling of ozone and distant rain. Scarlett kept her head down, her mind already calculating the next move. She needed more. A lot more. If she was going to disappear from the combined reach of the Thorne family and the Northern Lycan packs, she needed a fortune that could buy her a new identity in a corner of the world where magic was a myth.

"You are thinking of running again," Caleb’s voice sliced through her thoughts, a low, resonant vibration that seemed to bypass her ears and strike directly at her spine.

Scarlett glanced up. He was walking beside her with a deceptive ease, his long strides forcing her to maintain a brisk pace. In the dim glow of the streetlights, his golden eyes seemed to hold a light of their own, tracking every shadow in the alleyways they passed. Even without his memories, his body remembered how to be a hunter.

"I’m thinking of efficiency, Caleb," Scarlett replied, her tone clipped. "The billionaire’s nursery was child's play. If we want to move fast, we need to tap into the real market. The places where people don't ask for licenses, only results."

Caleb stopped abruptly, his hand catching her elbow and pulling her into the shadow of a closed storefront. The sudden proximity was suffocating; he smelled of cedarwood, cold rain, and the faint, bitter tang of the burnt talismans.

"The real market?" he repeated, his gaze narrowing. "You mean the supernatural underground. My wolf... he doesn't like the scent of that place. It smells like rot and betrayal."

"Your wolf is a King who’s been grounded by a curse," Scarlett whispered, looking up at him. She could see the faint, dark veins of the hex still pulsing beneath the skin of his throat. "He’s going to have to get used to the smell of rot if he wants to survive. And right now, survival is the only currency we have."

Caleb’s grip on her arm tightened for a fleeting second before he let go. "Then lead the way, little witch. But remember—if the shadows try to take you, I will burn this city to the ground before I let them succeed."

Scarlett suppressed a shiver. It was a promise that felt more like a threat.

They navigated the labyrinthine streets of the East End until they reached an unmarked door behind a sprawling seafood market. To a normal eye, it was just a service entrance. To Scarlett’s trained vision, the door was wreathed in a shimmering, violet mist—a protective ward designed to keep out anyone without a spark of the occult.

She bit her thumb, pressing a drop of blood against the wood. The violet mist swirled, then parted like a curtain.

The interior was a stark contrast to the grimy alley outside. It was a high-end lounge filled with a diverse crowd—some too pale, some with eyes that caught the light like cats, and all of them carrying a subtle, dangerous weight in their steps. This was the "Nexus," the place where the city’s paranormal entities came to trade secrets and hire fixers.

As they walked in, a heavy silence rippled through the room. It wasn't because of Scarlett. It was the man behind her. Even in a room full of monsters, Caleb stood out like a mountain among hills. The primal, dominant aura of a Lycan King—even a cursed one—was an instinctive alarm bell for everyone present.

"Don't growl," Scarlett hissed under her breath, noticing Caleb’s upper lip curling just a fraction.

"I am not growling," he murmured back, though his voice was a tectonic plate of suppressed fury. "I am assessing threats."

"Everyone here is a threat," she reminded him.

She made her way to a booth in the far corner where a man with silver-white hair was nursing a glass of translucent green liquid. This was Silas, a high-level information broker and a man who knew exactly which Lycan packs were currently hunting for their missing King.

Silas looked up, his pale eyes widening as they landed on Caleb. He nearly choked on his drink. "Scarlett Thorne. I heard you’d gone into hiding after the... incident at the estate. I didn't realize you’d brought a ghost with you."

"He’s not a ghost, Silas. He’s my bodyguard," Scarlett said, sliding into the booth. Caleb remained standing, looming over them like a silent executioner. "And I’m not here for small talk. I heard the Vane family is looking for someone to break a 'special' seal on their ancestral vault. The pay is half a million, cash."

Silas glanced nervously at Caleb, then back to Scarlett. "The Vanes? Scarlett, that vault is guarded by a Blood-Wraith. Three exorcists have already lost their souls trying to crack it. And besides... the Vane family are rivals to the Thorne pack. If your father finds out you’re working for them—"

"My father is the least of my concerns," Scarlett interrupted, her voice as cold as the marble tub she’d found Caleb in. "Tell the Vanes I’ll handle the Wraith. But I want the first half of the payment tonight."

Silas hesitated, but the look Caleb gave him—a cold, predatory stare that promised a very violent end—sealed the deal. "Fine. I’ll set up the meeting. But Scarlett... be careful. The wraith isn't the only thing in that vault. There are secrets there that have been buried for a thousand years."

As they left the Nexus, Caleb grabbed Scarlett’s hand, pulling her to a stop in the chilly night air.

"That man," Caleb growled, his golden eyes glowing with a terrifying brilliance. "He looked at me as if he recognized a dead man walking."

Scarlett’s heart hammered against her ribs. The clock was ticking. "He recognized your power, Caleb. Nothing more."

"You’re lying again," Caleb whispered, stepping closer until his chest pressed against hers, trapping her against the brick wall. "I can smell the fear on you, Scarlett. Is it the Wraith you're afraid of... or me?"