Rain fell like ash from a dying sky:
Cold. Relentless. Unforgiving.
Morning had come but the light felt and distant, as though the world itself hesitated to awaken.
Inside Alaric's house, silence reigned.
Until , Drago's eyes opened.
A sharp breath tore through his chest as consciousness returned, heavy and disoriented. The ceiling above him blurred, then steadied. Shapes formed.
Alaric.
Jacob.
Selina.
All standing over him.
"What… happened?" Drago muttered, his voice dry. "How long have I been out?"
He barely finished the sentence.
Smack.
Selina's hand struck his face with sudden force.
"Idiot!" she snapped, her voice trembling between anger and relief. "Do you plan to die before we even have six children?!"
For a moment silence.
Then laughter broke through the tension.
Even Alaric allowed the faintest trace of a smile.
Drago blinked… then chuckled weakly.
He was alive.
And for a brief moment , that was enough.
"Leave us," Alaric said quietly.
Selina and Jacob exchanged a glance, then stepped out without question.
The door closed.
Silence returned—but this time, it carried weight.
"I'm going to speak with Marcus," Alaric said.
Drago frowned. "The spy?"
A nod.
"Why? What do you need from him?"
Alaric's gaze hardened.
"I want him to connect me… to the Right Hand."
The air froze.
Drago pushed himself upright despite the pain, disbelief written across his face.
"The Right Hand?!" he said sharply. "That's impossible. No one knows who he is. No name. No face. He's the only one who communicates directly with the Leader"
"I know."
Alaric cut him off.
Calm. Certain.
Dangerous.
Drago stared at him, stunned.
But Alaric had already turned away.
Minutes later , Alaric sat alone in his room.
Thinking.
Calculating.
Doubting.
No…
It's too early to involve him.
His fingers tightened slightly.
But what choice do I have?
A shadow crossed his thoughts.
I won't lose anyone else.
He stood.
Decision made.
"Selina," he said, stepping out, "take me to Alexander and Valerian."
She blinked. "Why? Wasn't the plan"
"Don't make me repeat myself."
His tone left no room for argument.
A pause.
Then, quieter almost to himself:
"We end James… today."
No one dies because of me.
They moved quickly through the rain, unaware of the presence that lingered just beyond perception.
Watching.
Waiting.
Minutes later, they arrived.
Valerian's voice cut through the stillness.
"What are you doing here?"
Selina explained briefly , Then Alaric froze.
"Tch…"
All eyes turned to him.
"What is it?" Alexander asked.
Alaric's expression darkened, something between anger and realization twisting beneath the surface.
"…We've been played."
Silence.
"What?" Valerian stepped forward. "How?"
Alaric's voice dropped.
"He didn't fall into our trap…"
A pause.
"We fell into his."
The weight of it struck them all at once.
"How?!" Selina demanded.
Alaric clenched his jaw.
"He drew me out," he said. "That was the point. After the fight with the Fox… I let my guard down."
A flicker of frustration.
"He needed me away from the house."
Selina's heart skipped.
Something cold gripped her chest.
Without warning tears slipped down her face.
"No…"
They ran.
All of them.
Through rain, through mud, through dread that grew heavier with every step.
Too late.
They knew it.
But they ran anyway.
The door was open.
The air inside wrong.
They stepped in.
And stopped.
What remained of Drago… was no longer human.
His body torn apart , Scattered , Violated beyond recognition , And his head , hung from the ceiling.
Watching.
Empty.
Silence consumed the room.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Even the rain seemed to fade.
Alaric's voice finally broke through.
Low.
Heavy.
Crushed beneath something deeper than anger.
"Alexander…"
A pause.
"Take Selina out of here. Stay with her."
No resistance.
No argument.
They left.
Because they understood , what was coming next Valerian remained , His voice was tight. Controlled.
"It looks like… he took Jacob."
A beat.
"But why didn't he kill him?"
Alaric's eyes darkened.
He knew.
The truth lingered behind them , dangerous.
Fragile.
But something else disturbed him more.
James knows.
Alaric turned.
"Valerian."
A pause.
"The Fox… is yours now."
"Orión is tracking him. He'll send you the coordinates."
Valerian nodded.
"You can count on me."
And then , Alaric was gone.
No sound.
No trace.
Only intent.
Something awakened within him.
Not calm.
Not controlled.
But absolute.
His instincts took over:
Cold.
Focused.
Unforgiving.
Somewhere in the darkness , the hunter moved , But this time , he was no longer hunting.
The prey… had begun to hunt the predator.