Shock rippled through the cathedral like a physical force.

Voices clashed, echoing off stone walls and stained glass. Hunters filled the pews, their arguments sharp, desperate—fueled by fear.

War.

The word hung in the air like smoke.

Some demanded it. Others feared the cost.

Adrian stood near the back, silent, eyes scanning but unfocused.

His thoughts were elsewhere.

On Elara.

On what she had become.

“They’ve already made their move!” someone shouted. “You saw what they did to Gregory!”

A ripple followed his name.

Gregory wasn’t just a hunter—he trained them. If he could be taken… displayed—

No one was safe.

Adrian’s jaw tightened.

This isn’t just violence. It’s a message.

The room grew louder, spiraling between revenge and reason.

War wouldn’t stay contained.

It would spill into streets. Into homes.

Into innocent lives.

And somewhere in all of this… is her.

Across the room, Isaac moved through the shadows, silent, observant.

Then he turned—and walked out.

Adrian frowned.

Something felt off.

He followed.

---

The corridor was dim. Quiet.

Too quiet.

Adrian turned the corner—

Empty.

“You might want to follow quieter next time… sprout.”

Adrian spun.

Isaac leaned against the wall behind him, calm as ever.

“I’m not ‘sprout,’” Adrian muttered, turning away.

Isaac grabbed his shoulder.

“Not yet. You’ve been off all day.”

Adrian shoved him off. “And you’re not?”

Isaac tilted his head. “Bathroom’s right there.”

Adrian glanced back—

Mistake.

Isaac moved instantly, twisting his arm behind his back. Pain shot through his ribs.

“I saw you at the crime scene,” Isaac said quietly. “No school?”

Adrian slammed his head back.

Crack.

Isaac staggered, releasing him.

“I don’t answer to you.”

Isaac wiped the blood from his nose.

Then smiled.

Not amused.

Interested.

He stepped forward—

“Adrian. Isaac.”

Both turned.

“Report to the council chamber.”

A pause.

Isaac stepped back, adjusting his sleeve.

“Saved by the bell… sprout.”

Adrian said nothing.

But now he understood something.

Isaac wasn’t just watching the war.

He was preparing for it.

---

The council chamber felt heavier.

“We cannot start a war,” Gabriel said firmly.

Gideon Cross stood opposite him, rigid. “And we cannot do nothing.”

“That ‘statement’ will cost more lives if we act recklessly.”

“So we wait while they tear us apart?”

“No. We plan.”

“That sounds like fear.”

“That sounds like wisdom.”

“Enough.”

Silence fell instantly.

Mara Quinn stood at the head, calm, commanding.

“We will not risk innocent lives for pride.”

A pause.

“However… Gideon isn’t entirely wrong.”

A ripple moved through the room.

“We respond. But we do not start a war.”

Her gaze hardened.

“Two operatives.”

Gabriel tensed.

“Adrian.”

A beat.

“Isaac.”

His concern was immediate.

---

Elara stood alone in a dim corridor beneath the church.

Her hands were stained with blood.

She stared at them.

Waiting.

For guilt.

For horror.

For anything.

Nothing came.

“That should have hurt more…”

Her voice sounded чуж—distant.

Cold.

She slid down the wall.

Her mind replayed it.

Not the fear.

The feeling.

The warmth.

The power.

Her fingers curled.

I didn’t stop.

Her jaw tightened.

“I could have…”

But she knew.

She hadn’t wanted to.

“You choose who you become.”

Her father’s voice echoed.

“I didn’t choose this…”

Yes, you did.

Her eyes snapped open.

“No.”

But the thought stayed.

You followed. You drank.

You didn’t stop.

She stood slowly.

Her senses were clear now.

Controlled.

A heartbeat upstairs.

Another outside.

The hunger returned—

Not as a monster.

As a whisper.

“That’s new…”

Footsteps echoed behind her.

“I was wondering when the guilt would hit.”

Elara turned.

Isabella leaned against the wall, studying her.

“It didn’t.”

“Of course it didn’t.”

“That’s not normal.”

“No,” Isabella said softly. “It’s not human.”

The word settled.

“I thought I’d never become this,” Elara said.

“And now?”

A pause.

“I don’t feel different,” Elara said slowly. “I feel like something’s been waiting… and I let it out.”

Isabella smiled.

“That’s exactly what you are.”

A breath passed.

“You’re still in the middle,” Isabella continued.

“Middle of what?”

“Becoming.”

She stepped closer.

“You can still hesitate. That fades.”

“How long?”

“That depends on you.”

A beat.

“Some fight for years.”

Another step.

“Some give in after one taste.”

Elara remembered.

The moment she stopped resisting.

“I don’t think I’m fighting,” she admitted.

Isabella’s eyes gleamed.

“No. You’re not.”

A heartbeat echoed louder.

Elara’s head turned instantly.

Locked on.

“Go on,” Isabella said.

“I just fed.”

“And?”

A pause.

“I’m still hungry.”

Isabella smiled.

“Good.”

Elara didn’t hesitate.

She moved.

Not fear.

Not panic.

Choice.

Silent.

Deadly.

And somewhere deep inside—

The last piece of hesitation began to break.

---

The cathedral roared again.

“Enough.”

Mara’s voice cut through it.

“We are not starting a war.”

Outrage exploded.

“So we do nothing?!”

Mara smiled slightly.

“Of course not.”

Silence followed.

“We plan.”

The word settled.

“I’ve selected two operatives.”

Adrian felt it before she said it.

“Adrian Vale.”

Eyes turned.

Of course.

“And Isaac Taylor.”

The tension shifted.

“Step forward.”

They moved.

Side by side.

Not looking at each other.

But aware.

“These two will infiltrate a vampire stronghold,” Mara said.

A murmur spread.

“They will send a message.”

Her voice lowered.

“When you spill our blood… we return the favor.”

Approval rippled.

“They will enter St. Peter’s Church.”

Adrian’s stomach tightened.

Of course.

“…and bring back at least five vampires.”

Silence.

Then—

Cheers erupted.

“Is that enough… to quench your thirst?”

The cathedral exploded.

Adrian didn’t move.

Didn’t celebrate.

Because one thought drowned everything else—

What if she’s there?

His hands clenched.

If Elara was inside that church…

This wouldn’t be a mission.

It would be a choice.

Beside him, Isaac leaned slightly closer.

“This should be fun.”

“Stay out of my way,” Adrian said quietly.

Isaac smirked.

“We’ll see… sprout.”

Across the room, Adrian met Gabriel’s eyes.

No words.

Just understanding.

The mission.

The danger.

And the same silent fear—

Please don’t let her be there