When we were sure Aria was far enough, Damon finally spoke, his voice low and rough.

“I was on my way home last night when I noticed someone in my car,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Before I could react, I got hit with something—sedated instantly.”

My jaw clenched. “Where did you wake up?”

He looked up at me, his eyes hard. “In the woods.”

My fists balled.

“What? Don’t tell me it was…”

“Yeah. *The Nightfang Pack.*”

A growl rumbled low in my throat.

“I tried to fight that brat of an Alpha, but I was too weak,” Damon said through gritted teeth. “They laced the sedative with bane. My wolf was barely responding.”

“Cowards,” I spat. “They knew they couldn’t face you head-on, so they ambushed you.”

Damon nodded. “It wasn’t a warning, Lucien. It was personal. That bastard wanted me to deliver a message.”

I narrowed my eyes. “He’s trying to provoke me.”

“Exactly. That brat just took over after his father’s death. He’s desperate to prove himself.”

“Well, he’s poked the wrong beast.”

I stood tall, my blood already heating.

******

Somewhere deep within the estate, in a grand hall lit by low chandeliers and ancient torches, the long mahogany dining table held only three men—Lucien, his father Alpha D'Argon, and Louis, Damon's father and his father's loyal Beta.

Lucien’s voice was tight with restrained fury.

“Dad, I just told you—they *attacked* Damon. That can’t go unanswered.”

D’Argon barely glanced up from the bloodied steak on his plate. “If you had done what you were supposed to, none of this would’ve happened.”

Lucien frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re an Alpha, *without* your Luna,” D’Argon snapped. “No Luna, no true power. No respect. You think the Nightfang Pack doesn’t know that? They’re exploiting your weakness, son.”

Lucien’s fists clenched under the table. “Enough with this Luna nonsense. You know I’m not even a *pure werewolf*.”

“That may be,” Louis interjected calmly, sipping from his dark-stained goblet, “but they don’t know that. To them, you’re the most powerful Alpha heir in the kingdom.”

“You’re stronger than most hybrids,” D’Argon added, his tone softening. “Stronger than most *anyone*. You’ve got powers even you haven’t tapped into.”

Lucien exhaled heavily. “The white witch warned us—if the seal is removed without care, I won’t be able to control the powers. They’ll consume me.”

“That’s why you need her,” Louis said firmly. “Your *mate*. She is the key, the balance. You won’t survive what’s coming without her.”

Lucien scoffed, trying to mask the growing ache in his chest. “And until then? What—pick some random she-wolf to parade around as Luna?”

“Exactly,” D’Argon said without hesitation. “Find someone. Keep the pack stable. Buy yourself time. Respect comes with image.”

Then his father’s eyes narrowed. “Also, I heard there’s a *human girl* staying in your room at Sterling.”

Lucien stilled. His heart skipped.

“She doesn’t feel human…” he almost said, but he caught himself just in time.

Instead, he leaned back with practiced ease. “She’s just squatting. The dorm coordinator said it’s temporary—until she gets her permanent room.”

D’Argon raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Moments later, the butler appeared silently, carrying a crystal jug filled with warm, crimson liquid. He poured it into Lucien’s goblet and stepped back.

“Drink up,” D’Argon said, eyes flickering with concern beneath his commanding facade. “You look… malnourished.”

Lucien lifted the glass slowly, the metallic scent calming his nerves. He drank without protest, feeling the familiar warmth slide down his throat.

But even as he did, his mind wandered.

To *her*.

To Aria.

The girl who didn’t smell human.

The girl whose presence was starting to awaken things he had long buried.

He wiped his mouth, pushed his chair back, and stood.

“I’m heading back to Sterling.”

And without another word, he left—unaware that *brewing storms* don’t always come from enemies.

Sometimes… they come wrapped in secrets.

----------

Just in time, the bell rang—it was finally break time.

“Aria looks forward to the end of literature class more than food,” Michael teased, nudging me with a grin.

Talia laughed, tossing her braids over her shoulder. “Don’t blame her. That class is basically torture.”

I smiled faintly, but my mind wasn’t really with them. I was still replaying everything that had happened yesterday—the blood, the bathroom, the strange feeling crawling beneath my skin. A part of me wanted to tell Talia. She was more than my best friend—she was my sister in every way that mattered. Maybe she deserved to know.

“Aria?” Talia’s voice and touch snapped me out of my spiral.

“Huh?” I blinked.

“You were totally zoned out,” she said, eyes narrowing slightly. “Is that jerk Lucien giving you a hard time?”

“No,” I lied quickly. “It’s not that. I’m just tired.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Positive,” I said, forcing a smile.

“So… what were you guys talking about?” I asked, eager to change the topic.

Michael leaned in slightly. “I heard some seniors say Damon hasn’t been hanging out with Lucien lately. Apparently, he’s been MIA for two days.”

“MIA?” I echoed.

“Yeah. Word is, he’s injured,” he added, lowering his voice. “But no one knows how or why.”

Talia frowned. “That’s weird. Damon and Lucien are always together.”

I tried to hide the way my spine stiffened. Injured. Of course, I knew exactly what happened—or at least part of it. And now, the secrets were stacking up.

"Well, he'll be fine. After all, he's a *nepo baby*," I said with a smirk.

Michael and Talia burst out laughing as we cleared our trays and exited the cafeteria.

Once everyone drifted off to their various hostels, I took the familiar 15-minute walk back to my apartment. The cool evening breeze kissed my skin, and for a brief moment, it felt like everything was normal—like I wasn’t being haunted by nightmares or craving the smell of blood.

As I pushed open the door to the VIP room, I immediately saw Damon still lying there, his arm bandaged and resting against his chest.

"Where's Lucien?" I asked, stepping further in.

"He went home," he said, trying to sit up. "You miss him already?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don’t flatter yourself."

Damon chuckled. "I’m better than yesterday. I think the near-death experience knocked some sense into me." He winced as he stretched. "But hey, at least now I have a killer story to impress girls."

"Oh wow, *near-death charm*. That’s a new one."

"Hey, I’ve gotta use what I’ve got. The bandages make me look vulnerable—some girls dig that, right?"

I couldn’t help but laugh. He had a way of lighting up the room, even in pain.

“So… tell me about you,” he said, eyes more curious now.