"So who killed my family?" Selene asked, her face inches from Ethan's.
There was no hesitation. No softness. Just cold focus.
"I can show you," Ethan said, meeting her stare without flinching. "In two days, you'll know the truth."
She searched his expression for deception. Found none. That unsettled her more.
"Why two days?" she asked, taking a step back. "What changes in two days?"
Ethan slid his hands into his coat pockets, tone still calm.
"You underestimate time," he said evenly. "A lot can shift in forty-eight hours. Lycans reposition. Vampires make decisions. Alliances crack."
He held her gaze.
"And then there's the part where you discover Lucian—the Lycan leader—is alive and well."
Selene's expression hardened instantly. "No. Lucian died decades ago." Her voice carried absolute certainty. "Every vampire knows that."
"That," Ethan replied calmly, "is one of the lies you were fed."
"I mean—you followed those Lycans in the subway, right? You did follow them, didn't you?" Ethan asked, watching her carefully.
"Yes," Selene answered without hesitation.
"Then you must have seen it," he continued. "Lycans gathered in the hundreds. Armed. Coordinated. Moving with purpose."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Do you really think Lycans—creatures you call beasts by nature—would gather like that without a leader?"
Selene hadn't expected him to know that too.
She already suspected someone was leading the Lycans. She had even raised it with Kraven, who was currently in charge of the Old World Coven she served.
He had dismissed her concern immediately—waved it off as paranoia, told her to focus on preparations for the upcoming gathering.
"I'm sure Kraven—that petty idiot—told you to ignore it and get ready for the party," Ethan said flatly.
A faint smile touched Selene's lips despite herself. Petty idiot was not inaccurate. Kraven preferred politics and pleasure over war.
But the smile faded quickly.
Everything Ethan was saying matched events too closely. He spoke as if he had been present—like he had heard her conversation with Kraven himself.
That certainty made her hesitate. What if his words were true?
Could the Lycans' leader truly be alive?
If that was true, then his death had been a lie. And if Lucian's death was fabricated, then someone within the coven had deliberately fed them that lie.
Selene's eyes slowly shifted back to Ethan.
He was smiling again.
That same knowing smile.
"You know," Selene said flatly, "I don't like that smile."
Ethan blinked. "What? I thought my smiling face was handsome."
Then he paused, something clicking in his head.
Wednesday had said the same thing.
He frowned slightly. Does my smile really look that unpleasant?
Selene found herself smiling slightly. That expression suited him far better—the brief flicker of worry, the uncertainty in his eyes.
The earlier smile, the one that looked like he already knew everything, had been far more irritating. This one felt real, and she didn't entirely hate it.
She turned and began walking away.
"Where are you going?" Ethan asked.
"To confirm your words," Selene replied without slowing down.
***
At the same time, in the Lycan stronghold,
"So?" Lucian asked, voice low but tight with expectation.
Singe didn't look up immediately. He adjusted the microscope, studying the sample they'd taken from the hospital records—Michael's blood, quietly retrieved through their contacts.
The underground lab was dim, lit by hanging industrial lamps that cast long shadows across concrete walls.
Finally, Singe exhaled.
"Marvelous," he murmured. "It's perfect."
Lucian's eyes sharpened.
"It accepts both strains," Singe continued, straightening slowly. "Vampire and Lycan markers respond to it. No rejection. No collapse. This blood… it's compatible."
He turned fully now, almost reverent.
"He may be exactly what we've been searching for. The key to creating a true hybrid."
Silence settled for a second.
"But where is Michael?" Singe asked, the excitement thinning slightly. "I didn't expect even you to fail in bringing him in."
Lucian's jaw tightened.
"He will be here," he said calmly, though there was steel beneath it. "There's an interference. Someone lingering around him. Annoying. Unpredictable."
His gaze drifted toward the dark tunnels beyond.
"Once that obstacle is removed… Michael Corvin will have nowhere left to run."
Singe nodded slowly, returning to the sample.
"And tonight," Lucian continued, "Amelia arrives."
The name hung heavy in the air.
Tonight was important.
Amelia would be arriving with her entourage, unaware that she was walking straight into Lucian's design. To create something truly powerful, ordinary vampire blood would not be enough. An Elder's blood carried age, strength, authority—centuries of refinement in every drop. That was the catalyst he needed.
Michael was the key.
Amelia was the fuel.
Once he had both, the process would be simple.
Michael's blood first—the Corvinus strain that could accept both species without rejecting either. Then Amelia's Elder blood injected into the same system. Two legacies colliding inside one body. No collapse. No mutation failure.
A hybrid.
Stronger than any Lycan. Stronger than any vampire.
Stronger than Viktor.
Lucian's expression hardened at the thought.
Viktor had slaughtered his love. His unborn child. Branded it justice.
This would be his answer.
When the transformation was complete, he would tear Viktor apart.
*****
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