Morning came quietly.
Too quietly.
The kind of quiet that didn't soothe—but pressed.
Trisha woke before her alarm, eyes opening into a stillness that felt unnatural after everything she had learned the night before. The city stretched beyond the glass walls, golden light creeping over buildings, traffic already beginning to hum.
It looked normal.
Everything looked normal.
But she knew better now.
Rules.
Clans.
Marks.
War.
Her fingers drifted unconsciously to her collarbone. The mark pulsed faintly beneath her skin—not painful, not burning, just… present.
Aware.
Like it hadn't slept either.
Her phone buzzed suddenly on the bedside table, breaking the silence.
She flinched slightly before reaching for it.
Daniel.
For a second, she just stared at the screen.
Then she answered.
"Hello?"
"Trisha?" His voice came through immediately—relieved, but tight with concern. "Hey. Are you okay?"
She exhaled softly, pushing herself up against the headboard. "Yeah. I'm fine."
"You didn't come today."
Her gaze shifted toward the window again.
"I know."
"And you're not picking calls either," he added, gentler now. "I was starting to think something's wrong."
Something is wrong.
Everything is wrong.
But she didn't say that.
"I just… needed a day," she replied. "Things have been a bit—messy."
There was a pause on the other end.
"Is it family stuff?" he asked carefully.
Her grip tightened slightly around the phone.
"…Yeah."
It wasn't entirely a lie.
Just not the truth.
Daniel didn't push further.
"Okay," he said quietly. "I get that."
Another pause.
Then—
"Can you meet me in the evening?"
Her brows pulled together slightly. "Today?"
"Yeah. Just coffee. Nothing big," he added quickly. "I just… want to see you."
Something in his tone made her hesitate.
Not pressure.
Not demand.
Just… sincerity.
Her gaze drifted again, unfocused.
A part of her—the part that still clung to something normal—wanted that.
Needed that.
"Okay," she said finally. "I'll come."
"Good," he replied, relief clear now. "Text me when you're leaving?"
"I will."
They hung up.
Silence returned.
But it didn't feel as heavy this time.
For a moment—
just a moment—
she felt something lighter.
Almost like before.
*****
"You're going out."
Trisha didn't turn.
She already knew who it was.
"I want to," she replied, adjusting the strap of her bag.
Seraphina leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with that same composed, unreadable expression.
"With Daniel," Trisha added.
Seraphina's gaze sharpened slightly.
"The one from yesterday."
"Yes."
A pause.
Then—
"Where?"
"Coffee," Trisha said. "He asked to meet."
Seraphina didn't respond immediately.
She pushed off the doorframe slowly, walking further into the room.
"You're not going alone."
Trisha exhaled, already expecting that.
"I didn't say I would."
That seemed to satisfy her.
"Good."
Trisha hesitated.
Then—
"Actually… I have an idea."
Seraphina raised a brow.
"Tell me."
Trisha turned now, facing her fully.
"You said you own half the city," she said lightly.
"A generous understatement," Seraphina replied.
"Then… pick the place," Trisha continued. "Somewhere you're comfortable. Somewhere you can control things."
Seraphina went still for a fraction of a second.
Then—
a slow smile curved her lips.
"Smart Girl,"
"Don't go to him," she said softly.
Trisha's brows furrowed slightly.
"Let him come to us. "
Something about the way she said it—
calm, precise, intentional—
sent a subtle shift through the room.
Power.
Control.
Safety.
Trisha nodded.
"Alright."
*****
The café didn't look like a place someone like Seraphina would own.
It wasn't overly luxurious.
Not flashy.
But there was something about it—
quietly elegant.
Intentional.
Every detail carefully placed.
Every movement controlled.
Even the staff.
Especially the staff.
Trisha noticed it the moment they walked in.
The subtle glances.
The way people straightened slightly.
The quiet acknowledgment.
No one approached unnecessarily.
No one lingered.
Seraphina didn't even look at them.
She didn't need to.
"They know," Trisha murmured under her breath.
"Of course they do," Seraphina replied.
They were seated almost immediately.
Corner table.
Clear view of the entrance.
Of the exits.
Of everything.
Seraphina chose it without hesitation.
"You've done this before," Trisha said.
Seraphina didn't deny it.
*****
Daniel arrived ten minutes later.
He spotted her instantly.
Relief flickered across his face as he walked over.
"Hey."
"Hey."
He sat down across from her, his eyes scanning her face quickly.
"You look tired."
She smiled faintly. "You always say that."
"Because you always are."
Seraphina said nothing.
Just watched.
Observed.
Daniel glanced at her briefly.
Then back at Trisha.
"You didn't come today," he said again, quieter now.
"I know."
"They were talking about you."
Her expression shifted slightly. "Who?"
"Professors. Seniors. Even Batchmates."
That made her sit straighter.
"What did they say?"
Daniel hesitated.
Then—
"That if this keeps happening… you might not be allowed to sit for exams."
The words hit harder than she expected.
Real.
Immediate.
Something she couldn't outrun with secrets and distractions.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the table.
"I'll fix it," she said.
"You should," he replied gently. "You've worked too hard for this. Don't let anything ruin your dream."
Seraphina's gaze flicked toward her then.
Not interrupting.
But listening.
Daniel leaned back slightly.
"Also…" he hesitated, then added, "you've been acting very different."
Her breath stilled.
"Since when?" she asked.
"Months," he said. "Even before you started missing classes."
Her lips pressed together slightly.
"I've just been busy."
"That's not it."
Silence stretched.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
"I like you, Trisha," Daniel said suddenly.
Her heart skipped.
"I really do."
She didn't speak.
Didn't move.
"I know the timing is bad," he continued, "and I know you've got a lot going on… but I needed to say it."
Seraphina's gaze shifted—sharper now.
Observing both of them.
Waiting.
Trisha inhaled slowly.
Carefully.
Choosing her words.
" Our date… it went really well," she said softly.
Daniel nodded slightly.
"But…" she added.
His expression changed.
Subtly.
He already knew.
"I'm not ready," she finished. "For a relationship."
Silence.
Then—
"Okay."
No anger.
No frustration.
Just acceptance.
"Thank you for being honest," he said.
Her shoulders relaxed slightly.
"I don't want to lose you as a friend," she added.
"You won't."
A small smile passed between them.
Real.
But quieter now.
Different.
The waiter approached then, placing their order carefully on the table.
Coffee.
Light snacks.
Everything neat.
Controlled.
He didn't linger.
Didn't speak.
Just left.
Trisha reached for her cup—
and paused.
Something felt… off.
Her gaze dropped slightly.
There—
half-hidden beneath the edge of the tray—
was an envelope.
Dark green.
Sealed.
Gold insignia pressed into the center.
Her breath caught.
The world didn't stop.
But it narrowed.
Sharply.
Focused.
The sound around her dulled.
Muted.
Her fingers moved slowly.
Carefully.
She slid it out just enough to see the seal clearly.
Green seal, with something written in golden.
BW short for Blackwood.
Her pulse spiked.
"Trisha?"
Daniel's voice cut through.
Too loud.
Too close.
She looked up quickly.
Forcing her expression to stay neutral.
"What?"
He frowned slightly. "What's that?"
Her hand moved instantly.
The envelope disappeared beneath the napkin.
"Nothing," she said too quickly.
His brows pulled together.
"That didn't look like nothing."
"It's just—probably the bill," she added, calmer this time.
"It's not even time for the bill."
She smiled faintly.
Deflecting.
"Then maybe they're efficient."
He didn't look convinced.
Not at all.
But he didn't push.
Not yet.
Her heart was still racing.
Loud.
Uneven.
The mark at her collarbone pulsed—
once.
Twice.
Warmer now.
Like it knew.
Like it recognized something she hadn't even opened yet.
Seraphina didn't notice.
She was watching the room.
The doors.
The people.
Not the table.
Not the envelope.
Not the way Trisha's fingers had curled tightly into her lap.
Trisha reached for her bag slowly.
Carefully.
Without drawing attention.
And slipped the envelope inside.
Hidden.
Gone.
But not forgotten.
"Are you okay?" Daniel asked quietly.
She looked at him.
Forced a small smile.
"Yeah… I'm fine."
He didn't believe that either.
But he nodded.
The conversation didn't recover after that.
Not fully.
It moved.
Continued.
But something had shifted.
A tension neither of them named.
Neither of them understood.
But both of them felt.
*****
He walked her to the entrance.
"I'll text you," Daniel said.
"Okay."
He hesitated.
Then—
"Trisha… whatever's going on—"
"I'm handling it," she said softly.
He studied her for a moment longer.
Then nodded.
"Alright. Text me , if you need anything."
He left.
But not without looking back once.
She watched him go.
And then—
she exhaled.
Slowly.
Heavily.
Her hand moved to her bag.
Resting there.
Not opening it.
Not yet.
Seraphina stepped beside her.
"You handled that well,"
"I feel bad for the poor lad."
Trisha didn't respond.
"Let's go," Seraphina added.
And this time—
Trisha didn't argue.
*****
The ride back felt quieter.
Different.
The city blurred past the window.
But she didn't see it.
Her thoughts were elsewhere.
On the envelope.
On the seal.
On the name she didn't need to read to recognize.
Lucien.
Her fingers tightened slightly over her bag.
The mark pulsed again.
Warmer.
Stronger.
Alive.
She swallowed.
And said nothing.
Not to Seraphina.
Not to Rowan.
Not to anyone.
Because for the first time—
this wasn't something being done to her.
This was something she was choosing.
To keep.
To hide.
To understand.
Alone.
And somewhere—
in the silence between her thoughts—
something stirred.
Waiting.
Patient.
Certain.
Like it already knew—
she would open it.