Selene made her way to a vehicle in the manor's garage. There were many here—almost as if this place were a tomb for cars.
Entering one, she pressed a button, and the engine roared to life.
Slowly, the car rolled forward as she drove off.
Reaching the main gates of the manor, they opened automatically for her exit.
She was going out to seek answers.
Tonight, Amelia would return from the Western Coven for her century-long slumber. Tonight, would also mark the awakening of Marcus. Time was running out.
She trusted only Viktor; hence she was determined to awaken him ahead of schedule. She had already ensured it before leaving the manor—by the time she returned, Viktor would be awake, and she would present to him the evidence she had gathered.
The car drove off into the dusk.
It would be a long journey to her destination, and by the time she arrived, night would have fully descended.
Knowing Kraven might be a traitor, she made sure to inform Kahn to be on the lookout for anything unusual.
Now, she was heading toward her only hope—where she presumed the Lycans' hideout would be. If she could capture one, she would have her proof.
But before that, she had to make one crucial stop—to acquire information she desperately needed.
She was heading for the refuge of an exiled vampire: the historian, Andreas Tanis.
The Order had to be investigated.
In her centuries of existence, she knew no one more versed in history than Tanis. Exiled by Viktor for recording truths that contradicted him, Tanis alone possessed knowledge of the hidden past—truths buried beneath centuries of deception.
Though not to be trusted, he was her only hope.
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"My master," Liam called out to Valek. He had been standing watch at the grand table of the lord for some time now, waiting patiently for him to feast.
"What is it, William?" Valek asked, raising his gaze from the gory sight before him to meet Liam's worried face.
"You haven't touched your food," Liam stated.
At his words, a solemn sigh broke from Valek's lips.
"How long did it take for this to become normal to you?" Valek asked quietly, his eyes fixed on the bloody meal before him—a grotesque blend of blood and flesh. The sight was a grim reminder of what he had become.
"Twenty-three decades," Liam answered simply. He understood his master's conflict. Perhaps as a beast, Valek had lacked control over his monstrous urges—but now, nearly free from his feral nature, the burden of awareness weighed heavily upon him. He could no longer be sated by ordinary food. He needed blood. He needed flesh.
Just like the beast he once was. Liam lowered his gaze to the floor.
It was their fault. For that, they knew. They had turned him into what he was now—the monster in human skin. Driven by desperation to witness their lord once more, they had invoked forces they never should have.
The result was what sat before them now: neither vampire nor werewolf, no longer even a man. A fusion of horrors—an amalgamation of occultic sciences, biochemistry, and alchemy.
Was it worth it? …It was. If given another chance, they would do the same. It was better to have their master back—monster or not. For in truth, they were all monsters now.
"I could get you blood wine if this is not to your taste," Liam suggested gently. Without replying, Valek began dissecting the meal into smaller portions. With the grace and etiquette of nobility, he began to eat—as though this were an ordinary supper.
"You do not have to feel guilty, William," Valek said at last, his tone calm as he lifted a blood-soaked piece of flesh to his mouth. "You did what you had to. Never punish yourself for deeds born of loyalty."
"Where are the others?" Valek asked, noticing the absence of his other retainers.
"They are out. There is a war brewing. The Lycans are preparing for conflict," Liam replied.
"You've mentioned this before," Valek said, cutting another piece with composed precision, "but I still fail to see why you must intervene in their squabbles—the spawn of Corvinus. Let them fight. When they have weakened themselves, strike. Overthrow them, and build anew. You gain far more from what remains."
"My lord, it is not so simple," Liam cautioned. "Many years have passed, and the humans—the common people—have grown in both number and strength. Even our kingdom, enduring as it does in the shadows, would be at risk if our existence were revealed because of such reckless conflicts. It cannot happen. Or we shall all be hunted. Someone must keep the balance." At the end of his words, a fleeting gleam crossed Liam's expression as he looked at Valek. He hid his true thoughts—the real reason they maintained the balance was a secret, one only to be revealed when their lord was ready to embrace what he had become.
He did not think Valek's previous words redundant. Such was the nature of ancient rulers—to profit from unrest through patience and strategy.
"They are that powerful now?" Valek asked.
Liam nodded. "Extremely. Knowledge is a terrible weapon. Sometimes I fear that if they ever learned what we know… they would surpass all our millennia of effort."
Valek paused, gazing down at his meal. "If they are so intelligent and resourceful," he asked between measured bites, "why haven't they uncovered the truth of the supernatural?"
"They have." Liam's answer came quietly, almost like a confession.