The cave held its breath.
Water lapped faintly against stone, a slow, hollow rhythm that echoed just enough to remind Cassius how confined this space really was. The smell of faint salt and damp rock clung to the air, thick and unmoving, mixing with the sharper scent of fresh blood drifting from the boat.
Greg's body hadn't shifted.
It lay slumped where it had fallen, one arm hanging limply over the edge, fingertips brushing the surface of the water below. Each small ripple nudged them, as if the sea itself was trying to pull him away.
Cassius didn't look at him.
He couldn't afford to.
Not now.
Not with a gun trained on him from somewhere in the dark.
The voice lingered in the silence, its last word still echoing faintly across the cave walls.
Don't.
Cassius stood still, every muscle coiled beneath the surface, his mind working fast despite the stillness forced upon him.
He couldn't see the man.
Couldn't track his breathing.
Couldn't even place his exact position.
Only the darkness.
And the certainty that if he moved wrong, he'd be dead before the thought finished forming.
He exhaled slowly through his nose, steadying himself.
Then spoke.
"So... Who are you?"
His voice came out controlled, level, carrying none of the pressure building beneath it.
A pause.
Then the reply, just as calm.
"It doesn't matter who I am."
The tone was almost polite.
Measured.
"What matters… is who you are."
Cassius' eyes narrowed slightly.
The voice continued, unhurried.
"Cassius Alexandreous Vane."
The full name settled into the air with weight.
"Son of Morgan Alexandreous Vane."
A faint shift of fabric came from the darkness, barely audible.
"Your family built quite the reputation. Prominent werewolf hunters. Efficient. Ruthless."
Cassius said nothing.
He listened.
Because every word confirmed what his instincts had already told him.
This man knows too much.
"Thirty-seven confirmed werewolf kills," the voice went on, as if reciting a ledger. "Documented. Likely more that never made it into official records."
A soft exhale, almost thoughtful.
"And that's not including the Gryphon clan."
Cassius' jaw tightened.
"The estate incident last month," the man added, voice steady. "Quite the spectacle. Expensive, too."
He even named a number.
Precise.
Specific.
Not guessed.
Not assumed.
Known.
Cassius felt something cold settle deeper in his chest.
He's done his homework.
"Your family profited well from that line of work," the voice continued. "Generations of it. Contracts, bounties, private commissions."
A slight pause.
"Until the coexistence act."
The words carried a quiet shift in tone.
"Four years ago."
Cassius' fingers twitched slightly at his side, but he didn't move.
"That law didn't just disrupt your business," the man said softly. "It suffocated it."
A beat.
"Bankruptcy followed. Predictable."
Cassius' expression remained unchanged.
Unreadable.
But inside, his thoughts sharpened.
What do you want?
The voice didn't stop.
"You had a brother."
Cassius' gaze hardened, just a fraction.
"Matteus."
A pause.
"He had a family. A daughter."
Another pause.
"Emily, was it?"
The name lingered.
Heavy.
Then—
"They were all killed."
Silence.
"By the Thorne triplets," the man added calmly. "Under their mother's orders."
The cave seemed to tighten around them.
"And that my friend," the voice concluded, "is why you're here."
A faint shift.
Not movement.
Just presence.
"To burn what you can. To send a message."
A beat.
"To kill them."
Cassius finally spoke.
"You talk a lot," he said flatly. "Doesn't mean you're right."
The words were dismissive.
Carefully so.
But the man in the shadows chuckled softly.
A low, almost pleasant sound.
"I know everything, Cassius, or should i call you Cass"
The name was spoken like fact.
Not threat.
"Your past. Your motives. Your patterns."
A pause.
"And your attachments."
Cassius didn't react.
Didn't move.
But something inside him stilled.
"John Grove."
The name hit.
Not hard.
Not loud.
Just… precise.
Cassius' fingers curled slightly.
The smallest tell.
Gone as quickly as it came.
The man noticed.
Of course he did.
"Loyal," the voice said quietly. "Reliable. A rare quality."
Silence stretched.
Then—
"Perhaps I should bring your son into this."
The words were light.
Almost casual.
"Aaron, wasn't it?"
Cassius' head snapped just slightly.
Not enough to break composure.
But enough.
"Don't you dare."
The word came sharper than anything he'd said so far.
Low.
Controlled.
But carrying weight.
"Don't bring him into this."
For the first time, the voice shifted.
Not colder.
But… gentler.
"Of course."
A pause.
"My apologies."
The tone remained calm.
Measured.
"I only meant to illustrate a point."
A faint exhale.
"I wouldn't stoop that low."
Cassius didn't respond.
But the damage was done.
He knows where Aaron is.
He knows where I live.
He's already been there.
The realization sat heavy.
Dangerous.
The man continued as if nothing had happened.
"There are supplies on the boat."
Cassius' eyes flicked, just briefly.
"Food. Water. Enough to sustain you a long while."
Another pause.
"You should find a card in there too, with my encrypted number ofcourse."
A quiet shift in tone.
"You'll need it."
Cassius said nothing.
Listening.
Measuring.
"You shouldn't return to the southern shore," the man added. "It will be crawling with FSS patrols."
A beat.
"Head west. Fifty clicks. Then angle south."
The instructions came clean.
Deliberate.
"The supplies will hold you until then."
Cassius finally spoke again.
"My men?"
A simple question.
No emotion.
The answer came just as simply.
"They won't make it."
A pause.
"Those captured… won't leave alive."
No hesitation.
No sympathy.
"Unfortunately, the arrangement doesn't extend to them."
Cassius' jaw tightened.
Just slightly.
Then—
"What arrangement?"
The man in the shadows seemed to smile.
You could hear it in the voice.
"You."
A pause.
"Your record speaks for itself Cass."
Another.
"You're efficient. Adaptive. Resourceful. I need someone like that."
Cassius' eyes narrowed.
"And what do I get?"
The question came clean.
Direct.
The man laughed softly.
"Ah… human nature."
Not mocking.
Not entirely.
Just… knowing.
"What do you want, Cassius?"
Cassius didn't hesitate.
"Money."
A number followed. A high one too, mentioned deliberately to test him.
"One million."
Silence.
Then laughter again.
Quieter this time.
"You really are an open book."
Cassius said nothing.
"Check your home when you return," the man continued. "One million dollars in cash has already been delivered in a neat little briefcase."
A pause as Cassius' stomach dropped slightly.
"As a matter of fact, it's In your son's possession. With the instructions to hand it to you when you arrive"
The words landed harder than anything else so far.
"Consider it… a gesture of good faith."
Cassius didn't move.
But inside—
This man has been inside my life.
Not watching.
Operating.
"Hopefully," the voice added, "that will help you trust the process."
Cassius' voice came lower now.
"You FSS?"
"No." The answer came immediate yet calm. "Not even close."
A pause.
"Stop circling the question Cassius." The tone sharpened just slightly. "What do you really want?"
Cassius exhaled slowly.
Then answered.
"Immunity." He paused before adding "For me and my son... I want an out."
Silence.
"I leave the country," Cassius continued. "With him."
A final pause.
"And I payment for his treatment."
The cave went quiet again.
Then—
"Done."
Just like that.
No negotiation.
No hesitation.
"Stay in contact," the man added. "And hold up your end."
Cassius didn't respond.
"Board the boat," the voice said calmly. "Row out."
A faint shift in the shadows.
"When you're far enough… dispose of the body."
Cassius turned.
Slowly.
The boat creaked softly under his weight as he stepped onto it, careful not to look directly at Greg.
But he saw him anyway.
Blood dark against his skin.
He was just a kid... At the Wrong place. Wrong time... Unlucky
Cassius' jaw tightened.
Then loosened.
But... Such is life.
He pushed off.
The boat drifted, then cut through the water as he began to row.
Each stroke steady.
Measured.
The cave mouth grew smaller behind him.
Darkness giving way to open sea.
He didn't look back.
Meanwhile, the engines roared across the water, cutting through the night as the FSS boats pulled away from the island.
The castle shrank behind them, its silhouette fading into the distance, swallowed slowly by darkness.
Austin stood near the center of the vessel at first, his gaze fixed on that receding shape.
The fireworks were gone now.
No more light.
No more noise.
Just the steady hum of the engine and the endless stretch of black water ahead.
His mind replayed everything.
The bullets.
The beast.
The hooded woman.
The moment he thought he was going to die.
"…five casualties confirmed."
The voice barely registered.
"…three prisoners secured."
"…target not located."
Austin didn't respond.
Didn't even turn.
"…sir?"
A hand gripped his shoulder.
Firm.
Grounding.
Connor.
"You good?"
Austin blinked.
Once.
Then nodded.
"I'm good."
The words came automatically.
He stepped away before anything else could follow, moving toward the back of the boat.
Toward the prisoners.
Three of them.
Two knelt side by side, hands bound behind their backs, heads lowered. The third…
Was barely holding together.
An operative stood over him, driving a fist into his already bloodied face.
Again.
And again.
Each hit snapped the man's head back, a wet sound following every impact.
"Where is he?" the operative barked.
No answer.
Another punch.
"Where's Cassius?"
The man groaned, barely conscious.
"Talk!"
Nothing.
Austin watched.
Silent.
Still.
He didn't step in.
Didn't stop it.
He knew what this was.
What it was for.
Connor stepped forward, voice colder.
"Throw him."
The operative didn't hesitate.
He grabbed the man, dragging him to the edge of the boat.
The prisoner struggled weakly, legs buckling, breath hitching—
Then he was gone.
Thrown over.
The splash barely registered over the engine.
With his bound hands and feet. He stood no chance.
Austin closed his eyes for a brief second.
Then opened them again.
The operative turned to the remaining two, grabbing one by the collar and yanking his head up.
"You want the same?" he growled.
Fear lit their eyes instantly.
Real and raw.
They shook their heads quickly, breaths coming fast.
"Then start talking."
Austin's gaze drifted.
Not to the men.
Not to the operative.
But to the water.
Something…
Faint.
A sound? It was soft
Almost lost beneath the engine.
He frowned slightly.
Then turned to Connor.
"You hear that?"
Connor tilted his head.
"What?"
Austin focused.
Listening.
There it was again.
Low.
Melodic.
"…singing?"
Connor shook his head at first.
Then—
He paused.
His expression shifted.
"…wait."
The sound grew.
Just a little.
Carried on the water.
Beautiful.
Wrong.
Austin's grip tightened slightly on the railing as he stared out into the dark sea.
The sound wrapped around the boat.
Soft.
Inviting.
And beneath it—
Something else.
Something waiting.