The door slid shut behind me with a soft pneumatic hiss, cutting off the sterile brightness of the infirmary.
Sylus stood a few paces away—hands in his pockets, posture immaculate but coiled, as though the air itself might shift and he'd be the first to feel it. The overhead lighting cast long, sharp shadows along the corridor, catching on the hard line of his jaw and the sharp edge of his silhouette.
He didn't speak immediately.
He just watched me approach.
Watched the stiffness in my gait, the shallow pull of my breath, the way I favored my right side—studying me as if I were something he could take apart and catalogue.
When I stopped in front of him—
He finally moved.
One step closer.
Not enough to crowd.
Just enough to make it impossible to pretend he wasn't the most dangerous thing in this place.
"You handled yourself better than expected tonight," he said.
Not warm. Not flattering.
Just true.
"And it seems," he added, voice flattening, "you've caught the attention of someone… inconvenient."
My pulse stuttered.
I didn't ask who.
He answered anyway.
"The man at the auction."
A cold ripple slid down my spine. "Who is he?"
Sylus's gaze flicked. Sharp. Unblinking. "Viktor is dangerous. Nearly as dangerous as I am."
"Elara reacted to him," I said. "What did he say to her?"
For a heartbeat, Sylus looked like he might answer honestly.
Then—
"Doesn't matter."
Which meant: it mattered enough that he wouldn't tell me.
He shifted his weight. "What you need to understand is simple: he noticed you."
My mouth opened.
Closed.
The realization hit harder than expected.
"And?" I managed. "What exactly am I supposed to do with that information?"
Sylus didn't hesitate.
"You should work for me."
I blinked.
Blinking felt insufficient.
"You're currently employed by the Hunters Association," he continued, tone crisp and certain, as though this offer had been fact long before he voiced it. "That arrangement is… insufficient. They cannot protect you."
"And you can?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from tightening.
"Yes."
No arrogance. No posture.
Just certainty.
"If you work under me," he said, "you'll have access to my resources. My safe passage. My intel."
A beat.
"My protection."
My throat tightened.
"And Viktor?" I asked quietly.
"He will not touch what is mine."
The words fell like a blade driven upright between us.
Claiming. Cold. Final.
I swallowed hard. "What exactly would I be doing?"
"Whatever I require," Sylus said. "You have… relevant skills."
My skin prickled. "You mean hacking."
"As I said before, I already have hackers." His gaze sharpened. "I want the skills you're trying to hide."
His eyes held mine, unblinking. Dissecting.
He didn't know my past.
But he knew there was one.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just a hacker," I said, already turning away.
"Diana."
Just my name.
Low. Precise.
More effective than if he'd yelled.
I froze.
Turned back.
His expression hadn't changed—but the air had. A tightening. A quiet pressure.
"You turned your back on me very easily for someone being hunted."
I sucked in a shallow breath.
I clicked my tongue. "Never took you for a philanthropist. What do you get out of this?"
"Well," Sylus said, "the alternative is letting Viktor get to you first."
A slight tilt of his head.
"I don't like when he gets things that I don't."
The hallway seemed to contract.
Sylus stepped back a measured pace—giving me space while somehow feeling closer.
"This offer is not indefinite."
Of course it wasn't.
Nothing with him was.
"You should decide before morning."
I exhaled slowly. "And if I say no?"
Sylus tilted his head, considering the question—considering me.
"Then you may try your luck with the world outside."
Meaning: You'll be on your own. And you won't last long. I won't stop Viktor. No one will.
My fingers curled.
My ribs throbbed with my pulse.
"Think carefully," Sylus said. "That is all."
Then he turned and disappeared into the dim heart of the mansion.
I stayed where I was.
Breathing shallow.
Hands trembling.
Mind spinning.
Sylus had offered me safety.
At the cost of placing myself directly under his thumb.
And worse—part of me was already weighing it.
I stayed in the hallway long after his footsteps faded, the silence stretched thin as wire. The lights hummered overhead, making the bruised edges of the world feel unreal.
My ribs ached with every inhale, but the pain grounded me.
Because something Sylus said kept replaying.
I don't like when he gets things that I don't.
At first it had sounded possessive—predatory.
But now…
It echoed differently.
This wasn't about me. Not really. Not personally.
This was about control. Information. Advantage.
Sylus's Evol lets him see into the mind of anyone by looking into their eyes. It was the reason he always seemed ten steps ahead. Why he could call out lies with frightening precision.
Why almost nothing surprised him.
Except with me.
He couldn't read me.
He'd tested it once—too close, gaze locked, expecting revelation—and gotten nothing. He'd never acknowledged it.
He didn't need to.
His suspicion, his irritation, his sudden fixation—
—all because Viktor reacted to me as though he recognized something Sylus couldn't see.
Something Sylus wanted to see.
Something he believed he had the right to see.
The realization slid cold down my spine.
"What did Viktor say to Elara?" I whispered, knowing Sylus would never tell me.
But Elara had heard it.
Whatever it was had made her recoil.
Had made Sylus tense.
Had changed the air in the auction house in that horrible way predators recognize each other.
Sylus's line echoed again—
I don't like when he gets things that I don't.
He was being outmaneuvered. And he hated that.
I pressed a hand to my forehead, trying to breathe around the tightening in my chest.
What did Viktor see?
My cover?
My old life?
Some trace of what actually happened when I supposedly in prison?
Something about why I was here?
Or worse—something I didn't know yet?
I couldn't ask Sylus.
Which left only one person.
Elara.
I pushed off the wall, ribs screaming.
The corridor wavered, then steadied.
Elara was waiting in the infirmary—exhausted, anxious, too kind for this place. Too kind for what I needed from her.
But I needed answers.
I reached for the door panel.
The infirmary light spilled across the floor as I stepped inside.
Elara looked up immediately.
She sat on the rolling stool by the surgical bed, first-aid kit open beside her. Her shoulders lifted with relief—and worry she couldn't hide.
"You took a while," she said gently.
"Sorry," I murmured, closing the door. "Needed… a minute."
Her eyes traced my tension. "Did Sylus say something?"
I almost laughed.
"He said a lot of things."
She folded her hands around a strip of gauze. "What did he want?"
"He… made an offer."
Elara stiffened. "What kind of offer?"
"A job."
She blinked twice. "A… job?"
"More like a contract," I sighed. "Work for him, do whatever he requires, and in exchange I get resources, safe passage, protection."
Elara's confusion collapsed into concern. "Protection from what? I can handle getting us out of here today."
I hesitated.
Her voice dropped. "Diana… protection from what?"
"Sylus thinks I'm in danger."
Her eyes widened.
"But not from the N109 Zone," I added. "From someone else."
Silence tightened.
"Who?" she whispered.
"The man at the auction."
Her breath caught. "Viktor."
"Yeah."
Her expression shuttered instantly. Not fear—revulsion.
"What did he say to you?" I pressed.
She stared down at her hands.
My heartbeat stumbled at her silence.
"Elara. What did he say?"
A long moment passed.
Then—
"'If the brooch isn't for sale… then how much for her?'"
A chill crept over me.
She grimaced. "'She's clearly not being properly enjoyed.'"
The floor felt unsteady beneath me.
I pressed a hand to my ribs.
"Elara," I said quietly, "I think there's more to it than meets the eye. I think Viktor knows something about me. Something Sylus doesn't."
Her head snapped up. "But… Sylus can read minds just by—"
"Not mine," I cut in.
She froze.
"I don't know why," I said. "But Sylus can't see anything when he looks at me. Viktor, though… he reached out to me. Like a signal. He was taunting me. And after he let me find him, he cut it off completely. He had full control."
Elara reached for my wrist, steadying. "Diana… what are you going to do?"
"I don't know," I whispered. "Sylus wants an answer by morning."
Elara exhaled shakily and sank onto the stool. "You're considering it."
"I'd be stupid not to," I admitted. "Viktor wants something. Sylus won't tell me what. And I'm stuck in the middle with zero intel."
She rubbed her temples. "I don't like this. I don't like any of this."
"Same."
"Working for Sylus is…" Her nose wrinkled. "Complicated."
"That's one word for it."
"But if he can keep you safe…" Her voice softened. "Diana, I think you should do it. Viktor feels worse than Sylus."
Something inside me tightened.
"Yeah."
She hesitated. "Would you leave the Hunters Association? Just like that?"
I looked at her.
At the honest worry on her face.
"Elara," I said, "if Viktor is half as dangerous as Sylus claims… the Association isn't enough. And I don't think I'll be able to work for both. Sylus strikes me as a very demanding boss."
Her shoulders dropped.
"I won't disappear," I added.
She let out a small, pained laugh. "This day is insane."
"Understatement."
Her humor faded. "Do you… want to do it?"
The question hit like a weight.
Did I?
Work for Sylus? Hide under one predator to avoid another?
"I don't know," I admitted. "I'm trying to figure it out."
Elara nodded slowly. "Whatever you decide… I'll support it."
The words settled in my chest like something steady enough to breathe around.
"Thanks," I whispered.
She squeezed my hand once—gentle, grounding—then reached for a fresh bandage.
"Now," she said, softer, "let me finish patching you up so you can actually think."
I let out a shaky breath.
"Okay," I murmured. "But be nice."
"No promises," she said, smiling despite everything.
Her hands were steady.
For the first time since the rooftop—mine were too.