After that, Ethan was taken to the Lycans' lair.
"Welcomed" was a generous word.
They didn't have a choice.
Still suspended in the air, the captured Lycans were forced to guide him through the underground tunnels beneath Budapest. The moment Ethan loosened his grip just enough for them to walk, they moved stiffly, glancing back at him with open hostility.
None of them dared try anything reckless again. They shifted back into their human forms, left exposed for a brief moment before scrambling to cover themselves.
Grabbing a few shabby clothes from a nearby donation center, they dressed quickly, keeping their heads down and avoiding attention.
They led him through narrow backstreets until the polished parts of the city disappeared completely. The pavement cracked. Streetlights flickered or didn't work at all.
Ahead stood a cluster of worn-down apartment blocks and abandoned factory structures stitched together like a forgotten corner of Budapest. Windows were boarded. Some were replaced with metal sheets. Others had blankets hanging where glass should've been.
This wasn't some secret underground base.
It was a decaying society carved out of what the city had already discarded.
Figures watched from balconies. From broken stairwells. From rooftops. Not civilians—Lycans. Hardened. Armed. Suspicious.
Ethan stepped into the center of the road, boots echoing faintly on cracked concrete.
He looked up at the leaning buildings, the exposed wiring, the patched doors.
"So this is your kingdom?" he asked lightly, turning in a slow circle.
He gave a small smirk.
"You werewolves are really poor."
They sighed quietly, knowing they couldn't argue with that. They were poor—painfully so—and if they had any real resources, they wouldn't be hiding in places like this just to survive.
"Now," he said calmly, "take me to Lucian."
They brought him inside the largest building, through rusted doors and dim corridors that smelled of oil and damp concrete.
Lucian stood at the far end of the room, coat draped over his shoulders, expression sharp. His eyes flicked from Ethan to the Lycans who had escorted him in.
Confusion crossed his face.
"Why did you bring him?" Lucian asked coldly. "Where is Amelia's blood?"
Ethan stepped forward without hesitation, completely at ease in the middle of hostile territory.
"Hello," he said casually, extending his hand as if they were at a business meeting. "I'm Ethan. A vampire."
The word vampire had barely left his mouth before every weapon in the room was raised.
Guns clicked.
Metal shifted.
Several Lycans in human form lifted automatic rifles.
Ethan glanced around at the muzzles pointed directly at his head and chest.
"Umm," he said lightly, lowering his hand, "I think pointing those at me will do nothing except piss me off."
His eyes shifted briefly toward the men who had brought him here—the ones who had seen what he could do.
"You should ask your friends what happens when you don't listen to me."
The escorting men stiffened. Their earlier bravado was gone. One of them subtly shook his head at the others.
Their expressions said it clearly:
Don't.
He's not your usual vampire.
The room fell into a tense silence as Lucian studied Ethan, recalculating.
"What can a vampire possibly want with me?" Lucian asked, his tone controlled but edged with suspicion.
One of the Lycans stepped forward angrily. "You're the one who interrupted our task."
Ethan tilted his head, genuinely confused. "And who might you be?"
"I'm the guy you kicked in the nuts," the man snapped.
Ethan blinked. "I mean… I kicked at least two people in the last two days. You'll have to narrow it down."
"In the apartment," the Lycan growled.
"Oh," Ethan nodded as if something clicked. "Right. You had terrible aim and worse breath."
The man lunged half a step forward before Lucian's hand came up, stopping him without even looking.
Lucian's eyes remained fixed on Ethan. "You interfered with my men. You took the human. You disrupted my plans. That makes you either very brave… or very stupid."
Ethan's expression didn't change. "Neither. I'm just efficient."
The room remained tense, guns still trained on him.
"You want Amelia's blood," Ethan continued calmly. "You want Michael Corvin. You want Viktor dead. Revenge. Hybrid strength. End the war on your terms."
Several Lycans stiffened.
Lucian's gaze sharpened. "Careful."
Ethan smiled slightly. "Relax. I'm not here to stop you. I'm here because our interests align."
He took a step closer, ignoring the weapons.
"You want Viktor to suffer. I want him gone. You want power. I don't care who holds it—as long as it's not that old fossil."
A faint edge entered his voice now.
"So the real question isn't what a vampire wants with you."
His red eyes glinted.
"It's whether you're smart enough to use me."
Lucian's expression didn't change.
"Why would I need a vampire's help?" he asked, his voice flat but edged with contempt. "You know what your kind has done to us?"
Ethan didn't flinch.
"So I'm more convinced to kill you right here," Lucian said coldly. He didn't need the help of some strange vampire who somehow knew too much about his plans. That alone was reason enough not to trust him.
Ethan laughed once, short and amused.
"You do have a sense of humor," he said lightly. "But you should kill that thought immediately."
His eyes sharpened.
"Because the moment you try to kill me," Ethan added with a small smile, "will be the last day you live on this earth."
Silence followed.
*****
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