Mag-log inFor a long time, Elias said nothing. The steady hum of the hospital’s machines filled the silence between them, a faint rhythm like the ticking of time itself—measured, unrelenting.Then, at last, he exhaled slowly. The sound was quiet but heavy, as if releasing something that had been locked inside him for years. When he finally spoke, his voice carried an unexpected softness—something fragile, unfamiliar, almost human.“You know,” he began, the corners of his lips tightening with a faint, rueful smile, “this time… I really am moved by you. I didn’t think you were that kind of person. I suppose I’ve underestimated you all along—my brother.”That last phrase—my brother—was so gentle it almost vanished in the air, yet it lingered, echoing faintly against the sterile white walls, like the fading toll of a bell.For a brief second, Marcellus’s composure wavered. His eyes flickered with light, a fleeting reflection of emotions too complex to untangle—shock, quiet gratitude, and something
At last, Alia could no longer restrain herself.Overwhelmed by the tide of emotions that had been building within her, she threw herself into Marcellus’s arms.For a brief, fleeting instant, the air between them ceased to exist—the sound of the monitor faded, the sterile scent of the ward dissolved—there was only the rhythm of her heartbeat, desperate and uneven, thundering between them.Marcellus’s eyes softened, just slightly—so faintly it could have been imagined.He had seen her strong, cold, unflinching in the face of pain, yet in that moment her movements carried a kind of fragile urgency.When her fingertips brushed across his cheek, the warmth of her skin seared through him—a warmth that spoke of fear, of longing, of every unsaid word she had buried beneath her calm.It lasted no more than a breath, yet it felt like the world had paused for it.Then, she slowly straightened, trying to steady her breathing, her lips trembling as she forced out the words:“Wait for me. I know
Yet Alia continued, her tone calm but edged with thought.“Given what I know of Jim, in this situation, he’d at least tell the truth. And—” She paused slightly, her gaze dropping to the edge of the wooden table glimmering under the dim light. Her fingertip traced absently along the rim of her cup. “He probably won’t harm Marcellus right now. What he wants… is only the Holy Grail.”The air froze for a moment. Elias lifted his head, a glint of coldness flickering in his eyes as he asked, his tone probing, “Then he’d still have a good reason to get rid of Marcellus, wouldn’t he? After all—eliminating him might help him seize the other fragments of the Grail.”“No.” Alia shook her head slowly, a faint, complex chill flashing across her gaze. “If Jim truly wanted Marcellus dead, he’d never let me know.”Her voice dropped lower, half recollection, half analysis. “When he decides to kill someone, he never makes a show of it. Silent, unseen—that’s his way. He’s not afraid of anything, but whe
Alia’s fingers trembled as she looked at the cup of blood.The crimson liquid still slid slowly down the inner wall, leaving behind a dark, glistening trace—a mark of sacrifice that could never be taken back.She drew in a deep breath, forcing the tremor in her chest to still, then reached for the glass tube beside her.Her movements were cautious, reverent almost, as if she were handling something sacred rather than a man’s blood.The thick red stream flowed into the test tube with a muted sound, faint yet heavy with meaning.“I hope Livia can see what you’ve done,” Alia murmured. Her voice wavered, tight with emotion, though her tone remained calm.“No matter what happens… I hope this all ends well.”She sealed the tube, pressing the cap into place.The soft click echoed faintly in the quiet room—and in that sound, it felt as though she had sealed away not only Marcellus’s blood,but their fate,their gamble against destiny itself.Elias stood beside them, his expression dark, sha
The smell of blood mingled with the acrid sting of disinfectant, cold and sharp in the still air.Elias stood frozen, staring at the glass filled with fresh, dark blood. Shock and fury tangled in his eyes—he had never imagined Marcellus would actually go this far. The cut had been too swift, too deliberate, as if he had decided long before this moment what he would do.“Marcellus—have you lost your mind?!” Elias’s voice came out as a low growl, his worry burning into anger. “This is Jim we’re talking about! You don’t even know what he’s going to do with your blood!”Alia was equally stunned, her breath catching in her throat. She had seen Marcellus make ruthless choices before, had witnessed his calm in chaos countless times—but seeing him now, blood streaming from his palm, his expression steady and unwavering… her heart clenched painfully tight.Marcellus only smiled faintly. His gaze was calm, almost serene.“You can’t catch a wolf without sacrificing the lamb,” he said slowly, his
The night was deep and hushed.The corridors of the hospital lay empty, echoing only with the faint, rhythmic beeping of the monitors and the low whisper of wind seeping through the cracks of the window frame. When Alia pushed open the door to the ward, the sharp scent of disinfectant still hung heavily in the air.Elias sat by the window, his posture tense, head snapping up at the sound. Across from him, Marcellus reclined half-upright on the hospital bed. His complexion had regained a trace of color, yet his gaze remained calm, authoritative—unyielding, as always.Both men rose almost at the same instant.When they saw Alia standing safely in the doorway, Elias’s shoulders eased, the rigid line of tension finally loosening. Even Marcellus released a faint breath of relief.“You’re back,” he said. His voice was steady, composed—but beneath that surface calm, a ripple of emotion betrayed itself.“I’m fine,” Alia replied curtly. Her tone was level, yet there was a fleeting shadow in he







