Adrian I hit the button, the elevator humming as it descended to the lower levels. Carson stood beside me, silent but ready. The moment the doors slid open, Dimitri and Lancly were already waiting. Neither surprised. Both grim. “That bitch finally made her move,” Dimitri said. “She was in league with that bastard the whole time. I knew something was off about her friendship with your Dhampir mistress…” My gaze cut to him—sharp, cold. “Arya isn’t my mistress.” He caught the weight in my tone immediately. Took a step back. Nodded. Smart enough to recognize my rage for what it was—and who it was meant for. “I should’ve ended Martina when she came at Natalie on campus,” I said, voice flat. “But I listened. I showed restraint. Your pleas, Dimitri.” Now he understood where this was going. “I won’t make that mistake again.” “I have no problem with that,” Dimitri said quietly. Even he sounded disappointed. “She made her choice.” Lancly stepped forward, arms folded, eyes t
AdrianOn my way to the elevator that led to the lower levels, Carson intercepted me, confusion etched across his face.“What’s with the commotion, Adrian? Is everything okay?” he asked, his tone genuine—too calm for what was unravelling around us.I had to clamp down on the rage pulsing through my veins. If I didn’t, I’d tear through him just for being in my way.I met his eyes, voice low, clipped.“Dragomir helped Martina take Natalie,” I said. “And one of my Dhampirs helped them do it.”The words hung in the air like smoke.Carson’s expression shifted instantly. His jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists.“I hate traitors,” he growled.That, I already knew. He’d been watching Michelle with the same suspicion I now held for Arya. But his distrust came from duty. Mine was something else entirely.Because Natalie wasn’t just someone I swore to protect.She was part of my soul—my calm, my fire, my undoing.And I would walk through hell. Burn the heavens. Rip out the throats of gods
Adrian “Martina!” I roared, my voice crashing through the manor like a shockwave. Rage flooded every vein. It was pure. Blinding. I should’ve ended her the day she laid a hand on Natalie at the university. I should’ve ripped her throat out and let the council watch. But no. Dimitri came crawling, whispering about politics, about second chances. And my father—my father—asked me to let it go. To be gracious. To be civilized. So I swallowed it. Buried it. And now—this. This was the result of unfinished business. This was what happened when you let poison live. I stood there, shaking—not with indecision, but with clarity. This was the cost of mercy. They had feared I would become unstoppable. Feared that if I ever abandoned restraint, I would burn the world to cinders. Well, congratulations. They just made me the very monster they warned each other about. No more holding back. No more fair. No more forgiving. I gave them mercy, and they turned it into a weapon. Now I
AdrianI tore through the mansion like a madman, ripping open doors, checking every shadow, every passage—even the hidden levels Natalie could never have known existed. I knew I wouldn’t find her. Not really.But I searched anyway.Hope is a cruel, stupid thing. And I was its fool tonight.Each time I came up empty, the fury built. My hands shook—not just with rage, but with something far worse.Fear.Not the kind that made you freeze. The kind that poisoned your thoughts. That whispered all the things that could be happening to her right now.If she were with the wolves, I could live with that. I knew them. I could smell them. Break them if I needed to.But Strigoi?That was different.That was monsters. Creatures who fed on pain, who turned beauty into screaming, who didn’t kill out of hunger—they killed for fun.The image of her—bitten, broken, changed—seared into my skull. It clawed at the walls of my mind like a demon trying to escape.My fists slammed against the stone. I didn’t
Adrian “What about Brian?” I asked, my voice cold and controlled. Too controlled. Charles froze. His expression cracked. He hadn’t expected that. He didn’t think I’d know. “He knows too much,” he said finally, the words dragging out like a confession. “Dragomir won’t let him go...” I stepped toward him, slow and deliberate. “I asked you a question. Not a theory.” Charles swallowed hard, color draining from his face. “In the basement. My house in Alpaca. Where Michael is staying. He’s there. And Michael... Michael knows.” There it was. Proof. Michael had gone beyond betrayal. He didn’t just sell out the living, he’d locked his own brother in a cage. Kept him hidden like an inconvenient truth. Knowing Brian was down there, rotting beneath his feet, while he smiled, schemed, played diplomat. He was filth. And filth needed fire. Charles, desperate now, started spilling more, names, meeting places, a few passwords he thought might save him. None of it mattered. I had what I neede
AdrianCharles rambled about his wife, too, how she had received the treatment, how the years had peeled off her like dead skin. She looked younger now, radiant, he said. Glowing, even. He sounded proud. Like a child showing off a toy he didn't understand."And the immunosuppressant?" Dimitri asked from the shadows.Charles nodded quickly. "It regulates the mutation, lets them live longer, almost indefinitely. It relaxes the immune system, allowing the venom to wrap around the cells. That way, the immune system becomes... enhanced. They heal faster, get stronger. Unless something catastrophic happens, they live. For years.""And when they die?" I asked, stepping closer.His eyes flicked toward mine, and for a heartbeat, he forgot how to breathe.“Dragomir has people,” he said. “A network. They collect the bodies. Anyone who dies becomes part of his army, resurrected, reconditioned. He calls them ‘preserved assets.’ It doesn’t happen often. Only when there’s… poisoning, or a violent d