"I believe you are a bit confused as to why we refrained from restraining you," the man said as he led the way down the dim corridor.
Behind him, Selene followed cautiously, her eyes scanning every detail of her surroundings with calculated suspicion. Indeed, it baffled her that they had captured her but made no attempt to restrain her in any way. She refused to believe it was out of respect for her being a woman—female or not, she was a vampire, a Death Dealer.
Perhaps these captors were simply ignorant.
Then again, the closer she drew to this man, the more her instincts screamed danger.
"That is because you are not under capture," he continued after her silence. "You are no prisoner."
His tone was calm, deliberate—almost rehearsed.
His manner of speech… it belongs to someone of high standing from centuries past, she thought, narrowing her eyes. A nobleman, perhaps. Or a trained servant. Or… a vampire.
She inhaled, taking in his scent again, but it told her nothing. It was neither human nor Lycan.
Her brows furrowed slightly.
"You are wasting your time," them man said suddenly, stopping mid-step. "You have not encountered anything like me before."
Selene halted behind him, her eyes narrowing.
Not human, she confirmed silently.
"My name is Liam. You may refer to me however you wish," he said, resuming his pace.
Before long, they arrived before a large door leading to a chamber.
"In the car, I was with a human. Where is he?" Selene finally asked—the question that had lingered in her mind since waking.
"Fret not," Liam replied, pushing the door open. "He is safe. But your keen interest—and that of the Lycans—in this human called Michael has caused far too many public disturbances. It caught the attention of the Order. He is now in our custody."
He gestured politely for her to enter, his movements refined, almost butler-like.
Order? she thought in confusion.
The room beyond was immaculate—ornately furnished, rich with the scent of aged wood and burning fire. A large chair faced the crackling fireplace, like a throne.
Before Selene could study it carefully, another man came into view, he was beckoning her closer.
They sat together, four of them in total. Counting Liam, that made five. All dressed in the same dark attire, like a uniform.
An organization, she thought, her eyes narrowing.
Though weakened from blood loss, Selene remained poised. There was no point in escalating to violence unless provoked.
"Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable—we mean you no harm," said the man in the chair, his tone calm and smooth. Selene recognized authority in his voice; this was their leader.
As she stepped forward, she caught it again—that identical scent shared by all of them.
Same breed of creature, she noted grimly.
She didn't sit.
Unbothered by her refusal, the leader continued. "I am Vijayan. These are my brothers." He gestured toward the others, including Liam. "You stand before the forerunners of the Order."
The Order… like before, the name was unfamiliar. Selene's mind searched the memories of her centuries of service, but nothing surfaced.
"I believe you have never heard of us," Vijayan said softly. "That is good. The less you know, the better."
He leaned forward slightly. "You are here not as a prisoner, but as a witness. We wish to understand why the spawns of Marcus and William would take such keen interest in a mere human—enough to risk public exposure."
Selene's gaze drifted from one face to another before she spoke.
"What is the Order?" she asked, her tone steady. If this was some ancient faction, perhaps she could extract information useful to Viktor and the Coven.
"That was not my question," Ivijaya replied coolly. His tone sharpened. "We mean you no harm, but we are not above tearing the truth from your corpse."
His eyes glinted in the firelight. "Now tell me—what is so important about a mortal that would cause your kind to fight over him?"
Selene didn't flinch under his threat. Had her weapons not been missing, she might have already opened fire on them.
They locked eyes, the silence thickening between them. Finally, under Vijayan's unyielding gaze, she exhaled.
"I do not know his importance," she said flatly. "All I know is that the Lycans want him."
She felt her strength waning. Blood loss was catching up fast.
Sensing it, Liam stepped closer and rested a hand gently on her shoulder. She tensed, ready to strike—but his touch was not hostile. He guided her into the chair despite her resistance.
"Anything else of importance?" Vijayan asked.
"No. Only that I encountered a very powerful Lycan when I was capturing him," she answered.
"Lucian," a voice said beside Vijayan.
"Indeed," Vijayan nodded. "If we are to understand this matter, we must compel him to speak. Alexander, what was Lucian's state when you spoke to him?"
"Desperate," Alexander replied smoothly. "As I said before, I could not press him. His pack was nearby. It is better he does not know we have his treasured progeny."
Selene's eyes widened. "Wait—you're saying the one after Michael is Lucian? The most brutal leader of the Lycans? That Lucian?"
Her sudden movement to stand was halted as Liam's hand pressed her shoulder again. Her strength was too depleted to resist.
"Impossible!!"
Her outburst drew curious glances from the others.
"What makes you think that's impossible?" Vijayan asked calmly.
"Because he's dead," Selene said sharply. "Felled by Kraven himself. We have his skin as proof."
Her words were met with smirks. The men exchanged looks—and then burst off into laughter. All but Vijayan, who merely smiled.
"What—what's so amusing?" Selene demanded, insulted by their reaction.
"Lucien is not dead," Liam said through a grin. "And certainly not at the hands of Kraven." He nearly laughed again as he spat the name like a joke.
"Is that what he told you?" Alexander added, his tone mocking as he broke into a fit of laughter once more.
Selene stared at them, silent. Their laughter shattered the mystique they once held, but it wasn't their mockery that haunted her—it was what they implied.
She had always questioned Kraven's tale. There were inconsistencies in his story that even Viktor had ignored. She had doubted but never dared to voice it.
Now, hearing these words, those doubts rose once more—sharper, heavier and impossible to suppress.
If Lucien truly lives… then everything we've believed is a lie.