The air inside Lucien's private suite shifted the moment he said the word training.
Not louder.
Not colder.
Just… heavier.
Like the atmosphere itself understood a line had been crossed.
Lucien walked past Sera to a small cabinet built into the wall. He opened it, revealing a series of sleek metal cases stacked inside—each marked with a crow emblem.
But instead of grabbing any of them, he pulled out a simple, thin folder.
Plain.
Unmarked.
Almost harmless.
Almost.
He set the folder on the low table between them and motioned to the seat opposite his.
"Sit."
A command, not an invitation.
Sera sat, spine straight, jaw tight. Lucien lowered himself into his chair with the controlled grace of someone who never rushed, never worried, never feared anything in his own territory.
"This is your first test," he said, tapping the folder once.
Sera forced her voice steady. "What's in it?"
"Answers," Lucien murmured. "But not the ones you think."
He opened the folder.
Inside were photographs—spilled across the table like playing cards. Polaroids. Grainy night shots. Different angles of the same alley where Liam died.
Sera's breath hitched.
Lucien watched her reaction carefully.
"Recognize it?"
She swallowed. "Yes."
Lucien slid one photograph closer to her. It showed a shadowed figure—hood up, body half-turned away from the camera. The image was old, dated over a month before Liam's death.
The figure was unmistakably in the same alley.
"Who is this?" Sera whispered.
"That," Lucien said, leaning back, "is your first question."
Sera frowned. "You don't know?"
"Oh, I do." His tone was almost bored. "I want to know if you can figure it out."
Sera studied the photo. The figure was tall, broad-shouldered. Male. But the details were too vague to identify anyone.
"This could be anyone," she said.
Lucien smiled slowly. "I don't test people on things impossible to solve. Look closer."
Sera forced herself to breathe and examined the photo again.
The camera angle…
The grain of the image…
The timestamp…
Her eyes narrowed.
"This camera wasn't broken," she murmured. "The one the police said malfunctioned that night. It's been working for weeks."
Lucien's expression sharpened in approval. "Good."
Sera's pulse quickened. "Someone tampered with the footage. Someone who didn't want the truth about the alley to be seen."
Lucien lifted a single finger.
"One more step."
Her brain raced.
Why would someone erase proof of who went into the alley?
To hide a murder?
To hide their own presence?
No—she needed more.
She scanned the background of the photo again and froze.
A faint symbol was spray-painted on the dumpster behind the figure.
A small fang.
Red.
Her stomach dropped.
"Red Fangs…" she whispered. "He's marking their territory."
Lucien nodded once. "Very good."
Sera felt something hot rise in her chest—anger or validation, she couldn't tell.
"So he was a Fang," she said.
"No," Lucien corrected softly. "He worked for them. Outsider. Hired muscle."
Sera's blood ran cold. "You're saying they hired someone specifically to watch that alley?"
Lucien steepled his fingers.
"Someone hired someone… to hire someone."
Sera stared at him.
"You're talking in circles."
Lucien's smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'm talking in layers. This city doesn't operate on single decisions. It operates on chains. You follow one link, you find ten more."
She clenched her teeth. "So this was planned."
"Everything is planned," Lucien said, voice low. "Especially murder."
Her breath stilled.
Lucien leaned forward slightly.
"Now your real test," he said.
He picked up another photo and turned it face-down.
"Tell me," he murmured, "how far you are willing to go to uncover the man behind Liam's death."
Sera's fingers curled.
"Anything."
Lucien's eyes glinted.
"Careful with that word."
"I mean it." Her voice hardened. "If someone ordered his killing—if someone used the Red Fangs to do it—then I'll find them. And I'll tear their world apart."
Lucien studied her for a long, unsettling moment.
Then he flipped the photo face-up.
It wasn't another shadowed figure.
It wasn't the alley.
It was Liam.
Alive.
Smiling.
Taken months before his death.
Sera's breath shattered.
Lucien's voice was quiet, almost gentle—but chilling all the same.
"This is the last moment you get to think of him as a victim," he said.
Sera's head snapped up. "What are you talking about?"
Lucien didn't blink.
"Your boyfriend wasn't killed by accident," he said. "He was targeted."
The floor tilted beneath her.
"No," she whispered. "No—Liam didn't have enemies."
Lucien's gaze didn't soften.
"Everyone has enemies," he said.
Then—
"Especially when they hide things."
Sera's heartbeat became a painful drum.
"He wasn't hiding anything."
Lucien raised a brow.
"Are you sure?"
Her throat locked.
Lucien slid another picture toward her—a blurred shot of Liam in a different part of the city. Late-night. Talking to someone Sera didn't recognize. Secretive. Nervous.
"What is this?" she demanded.
Lucien's tone turned to steel.
"Your first task," he said. "Find out who he was meeting… and why."
Sera stared at the photo, horror and confusion twisting in her gut.
"You're lying," she whispered. "Liam wasn't involved in anything."
Lucien stood and circled behind her, his voice low near her ear.
"Are you prepared," he murmured, "to learn a truth you've sworn does not exist?"
Sera's hands shook.
Then she nodded.
"Yes."
Lucien smiled in the dark reflection of the glass.
"Good," he said.
"Because your boyfriend wasn't the man you thought he was."
A beat.
"And if you continue… you'll never see him the same way again."
Sera felt the world tilt.
But she didn't back down.
And in the shadows behind her, Lucien watched with quiet satisfaction.
The girl wasn't breaking.
She was awakening.