Reuel fell silent at Amalia's response. A dark thought crossed his mind-was it possible that, in all her thousands of years, Amalia had truly never needed a man? A sly grin crept across his face. A short chuckle escaped his throat-quiet, almost inaudible.
"What the hell are you laughing at, huh?! You bastard!" Amalia snapped, her face hardening instantly. "Don't even think about disgusting things like that. I'm going back to my room!"
She knew exactly where Reuel's mind had wandered when he looked at her like that. It made her sick, disgusted, and she had no desire to remain in the same room with him any longer. Without another word, Amalia turned and stormed off.
Reuel simply watched her back for a moment before turning his gaze back to Selene. She was still staring at the key-shaped pendant in her hand, her face clouded with confusion.
"Don't overthink your father's legacy. If you want to go there, someone will guide us," Reuel said casually.
Selene lifted her head and asked softly, "You mean... Alexander Corvinus and Marcus?"
Reuel shook his head.
"No. Just Alexander Corvinus. I'm not sure he even knows about the underground prison... But Marcus definitely doesn't. Viktor built it in secret, long before the conflict erupted-he was afraid Marcus would find out."
Reuel's voice dropped as he spoke the names. Inwardly, he recalled the plotlines from the Underworld films he'd watched in his past life-a handy advantage he wasn't about to waste.
"So you intend to hand over this key... to Lord Corvinus?" Selene asked, still staring at the pendant as though it might give her the answer itself.
Then she looked at Reuel, hesitant.
"Wait. I still don't know what that old man is really planning... Alexander Corvinus always seemed neutral, but..."
"I never thought... he'd choose to help both vampires and Lycans in secret. Such a shame..." Selene murmured quietly.
Her tone was heavy-a blend of respect, disappointment, and exhaustion. She knew how much Corvinus had done over the centuries-keeping the existence of Lycans and vampires hidden from the human world, preserving a fragile balance.
"Enough. Don't overthink it. It's late. Let's get some rest," Reuel said gently, brushing his hand along Selene's waist.
"Go. I want to rest alone," Selene replied coldly, pushing him away gently, trying to free herself from his hold.
"Unfortunately, that's not allowed..." Reuel whispered with a grin. "You're my wife now."
Without heeding Selene's protests, Reuel scooped her up effortlessly and walked calmly across the room.
"You bastard! Put me down right now!" Selene shouted, struggling.
But she didn't use any of her strength. Somehow, she didn't really want to get away. Her face started to flush-not from embarrassment, but because she had no idea how to respond.
Reuel didn't say a word. He simply held her tighter, as if the world beyond them didn't matter, and stepped into the bedroom.
That night, Selene knew-
Her sleep would be anything but peaceful.
(What happens next... feel free to use your imagination.)
---
Budapest, Hungary
On a deserted road at the edge of the city, not far from the Lycan's hidden den, night fell with a silence too deliberate to be natural. The cold air bit hard, as if it, too, was watching every staggering step of the figure limping away from civilization.
Michael.
Now free-after being released by Lucian-but that freedom didn't come with peace.
His body was still weak. Too much of his blood had been drained, and the bite mark from another Lycan still burned beneath his skin. A pain that wasn't just physical-but also deeply emotional.
More painful than the wounds was the shame gnawing at his conscience.
He had changed.
And in that savage form he barely understood, he had attacked an innocent person... in a restaurant. In front of witnesses. In the real world.
Now he was a fugitive.
Michael ran into the forest, leaving behind a Budapest now laced with tension. He hoped to hide-or at the very least, find answers to his terrifying transformation.
But without him realizing it, his face had already flashed across every police screen in Hungary. His identity: no longer human.
His movement, his gaze, even his heartbeat-everything had changed. And someone within the authorities noticed.
A report was sent immediately.
And the higher-ups acted fast.
Hungarian elite military units were deployed quietly. No announcements, no headlines. The orders were clear:
Capture the mutant alive.
After a long chase through the dark and the dense woods, a tranquilizer dart finally struck Michael's neck. His body swayed, eyes fluttered, and consciousness slipped away.
In an instant, the world went black.
---
Undisclosed location, not listed on any military map
A dark office. Windowless. Bare concrete walls. A dim light from an old lamp dangled from the ceiling, casting shadows that looked like secrets themselves.
A middle-aged man in a black suit stood stiffly, delivering a report to an old man lounging arrogantly in a large chair. His face was lined with age, but his gaze was sharp, cold-like observing a living specimen through lab glass.
"Minister of Defense, the target has been secured. He's now under heavy surveillance in the underground military facility."
A thin smile formed on the old man's face. Not warm. Not sincere.
His eyes didn't hide the kind of curiosity darker than simple interest.
"Good... Send in the research team. I want to know-is he a vampire? A Lycan? Or... something more intriguing?"
"Order acknowledged, Minister."
The officer bowed respectfully, then left the room, his steps brisk and filled with anticipation. He knew tonight, they had found something the outside world had never seen.
The door shut.
Silence.
The Minister of Defense slowly leaned back in his chair. His wrinkled fingers touched his chin, thinking... imagining... calculating the time he had left.
Then he whispered, barely audible:
"So many legends. So many lies. But if this one... is real... then my illness... will vanish. And I... will live beyond time itself."
He gazed into the distance-or perhaps... into the future.
A small laugh escaped his throat.
Quiet. Cold. Terrifying.
"God won't save me... But maybe... this mutant will."
And that laugh turned into an echo-spreading, unraveling.
"Hahahaha... hahahahahahaha..."
The laugh of a man who believed he had just found his ticket to immortality.
---
Deck of the Helena - Open Sea
Sea winds stirred the heavy curtains inside the main cabin of the Helena, Alexander Corvinus's private vessel that sailed calmly across the ocean-steady, but full of purpose.
Behind a wide window facing the dark waters, Alexander stood tall, letting the moonlight wash over his expressionless face. His arms were crossed, his gaze vacant, piercing through the glittering waves.
A new report had just reached him through his underground network: Reuel had acquired the key.
Yet his expression remained unchanged. No surprise. No concern.
He had anticipated this.
And, truthfully, he didn't much care.
Not out of arrogance-but because he had been preparing for this for a long time.
Through his sprawling covert operations across multiple nations, Alexander had also caught wind of new developments: the Hungarian government had begun actively hunting vampires and Lycans. The mastermind behind the movement remained unclear, but one thing was certain-they had deployed elite units.
Alexander knew: the time had come.
If he didn't act now, then all bloodlines-both vampire and Lycan-would be exposed to the human world... and become targets of global superpowers.
A soft knock pulled him from his thoughts.
Without turning, Alexander spoke-quiet but firm.
"Enter. It's unlocked."
A Cleaner-one of Corvinus's elite private operatives-stepped in swiftly and with precision. His posture rigid, dressed head-to-toe in black, his face nearly devoid of expression.
"Sir," he said crisply.
"What's the situation in Canada?" Alexander asked without wasting a moment.
"They're demanding a higher price before agreeing to the land sale you requested," the operative replied, his tone flat but his eyes sharp, awaiting orders.
Alexander let out a slow breath. His eyes never left the sea.
"Pay them. Now. That land must be secured immediately."
No negotiation. No delay. Alexander understood that time was a luxury he no longer possessed.
"Understood, sir. I'll take care of it today."
The operative gave a respectful nod and exited without a sound. Once the cabin door shut behind him, silence reclaimed the room.
Alexander remained where he stood.
The sea stretched endlessly before him. Boundless-like the plans he continued to set in motion, aimed at something far greater... and darker.
In his heart, he whispered:
"I've found a peaceful place for you... This is the last thing I can do for you, Marcus."
---
The Next Morning - Reuel's Cabin, Luxury Battlecruiser
Reuel slowly opened his eyes.
Golden light from the ceiling panels-engineered to mimic sunrise-spilled across the sleek, futuristic bedroom. A warm glow danced along the elegant metal walls, casting a calm, morning ambiance.
In his arms, Selene was still asleep, her body curled close within his embrace.
Her face was peaceful... unlike the night before.
They had endured a long night-brutal, passionate, driven by an overwhelming primal urge. But Reuel's body still pulsed with energy; the stamina of a hybrid like him far surpassed any normal human.
Carefully, he slipped away from Selene and headed to the bathroom. His hair was still damp when he emerged, wearing only black trousers. He made his way to the small kitchenette, hoping to enjoy a quiet morning.
But that hope was dashed immediately.
On the sofa, Amalia was already sitting, staring at him with daggers in her eyes-as if she could kill with her gaze alone.
"Why are you looking at me like that? I didn't bother you last night, did I?" Reuel asked, trying to break the tension with a light tone.
Amalia crossed her arms, chin lifted slightly. Her expression dripped with sarcasm.
"If only you could've turned the volume down last night... maybe I could've slept."
Her voice was sharp, laced with pointed glances.
Reuel scratched his head, embarrassed.
"Ah... forgot your room was next door. Sorry."
He knew there was no excuse for the noise-especially when the listener was a vampire with razor-sharp hearing.
To smooth things over, Reuel pulled a small vial from the metal cabinet. The thick, glistening red liquid inside was unmistakable. Michael's blood-left over from their last fight.
He'd kept it, hoping to trade it through the system he had access to. But the results had been disappointing: vampire, Lycan-even Michael's own blood-were all classified as "trash." Worthless. At least, in his system.
Here. For you. As... compensation," he said, handing the vial to Amalia.
Amalia raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.
"Human blood? Didn't you say you'd get deer blood today?" she asked sharply.
Reuel's face twisted in awkward realization.
Shit. Forgot about that.
Reuel extended the small vial filled with thick red liquid.
"This isn't ordinary blood. Try it. See if it does anything," said Reuel.
Amalia eyed the vial warily before finally uncapping it and drinking its contents. Within seconds, her eyes widened—power surged through her body instantly. The weakness that had gnawed at her for so long… vanished without a trace.
"…What blood is this? It… healed me," she asked, stunned.
"How is it? Did it work?" Reuel asked, a bit nervous. He truly hadn't been sure whether Michael's blood would have any effect on Amalia. If it hadn't, he would've had no choice but to ask for blood straight from Alexander Corvinus.
"Effective? I wasn't even sure it would suit you. If it didn't work… I'd be in serious trouble," he added awkwardly.
"I'm fully recovered. So, whose blood is this, really?" Amalia asked, now burning with curiosity.
Reuel didn't answer. He simply led Amalia gently to the window. He pulled back the curtain slightly, letting a shaft of sunlight creep into the room.
"See for yourself," he said flatly.
He took Amalia's hand and pushed it into the sunlight.
Ssss!! The sharp hiss of burning flesh filled the air.
Her hand reddened, skin blistering. Michael's blood wasn't on the same level as Alexander Corvinus's—it still couldn't withstand the sun.
No wonder the system marked it as trash, Reuel thought grimly. Should I start thinking about moving to a magic-based universe…?
Amalia was taken aback when Reuel thrust his own hand into the light as well. His skin burned too. He pulled it back quickly, gritting his teeth against the pain.
"ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?!" Amalia shouted, her voice booming.
Her eyes cut through Reuel like a blade, merciless.
She knew Reuel had only meant to test the blood's strength. But when she saw the disappointment etched into his face, her gaze narrowed, and she spoke with an icy tone.
"Just a little test, huh? You just wanted to see how strong the blood was?" she sneered.
"I didn't mean to hurt you. I thought… maybe it would be potent enough," Reuel said, voice laced with regret. He really hadn't expected the blood to both work—and fail.
Amalia exhaled slowly.
"It's been thousands of years… I've gotten used to disappointment," she said softly, her gaze fixed on the sunlight beyond the glass. Her tone was calm, though there was a flicker of hope still lingering behind her eyes.
Suddenly, Reuel said, "Selene can walk in sunlight now."
"What?! Seriously?" Amalia nearly shouted. Her eyes went wide in disbelief.
She stared at Reuel, completely shocked.
Reuel nodded slowly.
"It's true."
"How? How did you do it?!" Selene's voice cut in—at some point, she had woken up, and now stood beside them, gripping Reuel's arm, filled with urgent anticipation.
Reuel answered simply.
"Blood."
"Whose blood?" Amalia pressed.
Reuel looked at them both.
"What you drank… was Michael's blood. But what Selene drank—that was her ancestor's: Alexander Corvinus."
Amalia fell silent. Her eyes sharpened, a mix of awe and fury impossible to distinguish.
"…Her ancestor is still alive?" she whispered, barely audible. "You lied to me."
"No," Reuel said firmly. "He's older than you."
He looked at Amalia with a faint smile—not arrogant, but enough to make clear that every word he spoke was the truth.
And for a brief moment… the cold, ancient vampire's face showed an emotion rarely seen:
shock… and hope.