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"My Queen hired the SDF to investigate," Dame says. "I heard the words straight out of General Axel Black's mouth."

General Axel Black of the Fourth Division. The man who created the Supernatural Defence Force—the SDF—in the war against Nightwalkers alongside his King, His Majesty Rayan Akram. They're an organisation of humans who specialises in assassination and infiltration.

I run my tongue along the inside of my cheek in thought. If Ax says his people have seen it, I don't doubt his words. It's why Maya hired them to begin with; they specialise in gathering intel, and I don't know a time when they were wrong.

I should know. The SDF is the reason I found him —the mad scientist, Ricci Gonzalas—and killed him.

"And Maya and Valadez will just hand him over, will they?" I drawl, but Dame shrugs.

"If he were to escape, I doubt they would need to know," he tells me, his expression suddenly calm. I tilt my head. He could lose his position for this; he could lose the Gods’ favour. But I doubt any of it matters when it concerns his daughter's safety.

Just as I'm about to agree and start making plans with Dame to rid myself of a problem that the Gods demand I deal with, Umbra stirs, sensing danger.

It can only mean we have an intruder. And the only one who can make a sudden appearance without my knowing, is him— Damien.

Umbra threatens to rise to the surface as a growl slips from my lips in warning. Dame stiffens, staring at me cautiously as if he can sense the darkness in my veins, rolling and twisting and threatening to consume everything.

Calmly— too calmly —I leave my seat and glare at Dame with a look that practically screams, 'Do not fucking move.

' He stares back at me, trying to remain calm, but I can taste his fear.

Literally. I'm not surprised by it; it's something I'm used to.

A reaction I've earned through blood, chaos, and death.

Because of my dark reputation, Dame knows I can handle the Defect if the situation were to escalate.

"Where is he?" That familiar, manic voice carries itself to the top of the stairs. "Where is the Gods’ Champion?!"

Once I reach the bottom step, footsteps race and stop just behind me. I click my tongue in mild annoyance. I should have known she wouldn't stay in her room.

A familiar brunette stands with her hands fisted around the balcony railing, leaning over so far that she threatens to fall over. Her wild, honey-colored eyes find mine, and the worry and fear painted across her face only angers Umbra.

When I first met Reece, I learnt pretty quickly just how stubborn she can be.

Damien cackles into the night. "The great fucking hero?!"

I break our gaze and enter the lounge.

Moonlight spills through shattered windows, shards of glass gleaming on the tiled floor. The glow casts an eerie spotlight on the man standing atop my coffee table like it's his throne. His long blond hair spills past his shoulders, and those cruel, steel-grey eyes gleam with amusement.

A slow, mocking smirk stretches across his lips.

"Ahh," he purrs. "There you are… Grand Arbiter."

My shadows seep from the stone, unravelling like ink, stretching into hollow-eyed figures that fix their gaze on my intruder—Damien.

Under the moonlight, their forms shimmer gold, their movements jagged, limbs twisting unnaturally as they close in.

Idiot. Doesn't he know? My home is alive. Watching. Waiting. Listening— always.

I sink into the couch, draping an arm over the back, ankle resting on my knee. Calm. In control.

He wouldn't dare try anything—not when my castle is finally awake.

Damien stands on my coffee table, his eyes shifting to the figures, and then to me. His gaze sharpens.

Footsteps race into the lounge. I didn't need to look in her direction to know Reece hadn't returned to her room as I hoped she would have. Luckily, one of my Shadows has the good sense to stand in her way, its lethal form forcing her to stop before she breaks their defensive line.

"My beloved girl." Damien clasps his hands together, his gaze roaming over Reece. "You look beautiful. Though, I do prefer you black and blue and..." His eyes flash golden. "Screaming."

His words anger Umbra; after all, Reece is family. And no one disrespects my family, not in front of me, and especially not in front of Umbra.

I growl so deep and low, the whole Castle shakes violently. Umbra threatens to surface and expose us, and I simply can't allow that, because I turn to him next.

I blink, and in the split second that I'm in the darkness, I find Umbra and stare him down. My words a sharp command, a warning. "Calm down."

Umbra growls, low and threatening, but I hold his gaze and stand my ground. I can see his eyes bleeding, as the heat of his anger rushes through my veins, threatening to appear and remove this threat once and for all.

But after what feels like forever, he calms down and disappears from my mind. I stare at Damien and see his grey eyes narrowed into slits, and when I glance down at his feet, I notice he's taken a step back. I smirk. It is cruel and dangerous, perfectly reflecting my intentions.

"What do you want, Damien?" I muse, cocking my head to the side. "Even a Second-Generation Nightwalker like you can't take on my shadows."

Unlike a Defect, a Second-Generation Nightwalker is a survivor—one who endured the experiments without losing their mind. While Defects are nothing more than monstrous hulks of raw strength, Second-Generation Nightwalkers retain their intelligence. They're stronger, faster, and far deadlier.

And worst of all, they can't be sensed—not even by my castle.

"To seal a promise."

Damien clenches his fist, his knuckles whitening as the air thickens—charged with an unseen force, crackling like the split second before a lightning strike.

"I'll have my son by the end of the next moon, Riot." I stiffen at the mention of the threat in his words. "And if you, your shadows, and your family want to stand in my way, I'll dispose of you and turn my boy into a fucking God over your corpses."

A snarl rips through the room as everything falls into chaos. One of my shadows lunges for Reece, keeping her at a safe distance, and the rest pounce. But before they can touch him—before any of us can—Damien vanishes.

Not a step. Not a retreat.

He collapses into nothing, as if the universe itself swallowed him whole.

The air snaps back into place, and a deafening crack splits the air.

The space where he stood implodes, then air expands outward in a concussive shockwave.

The force slams into my shadows; the disfigured entity's scream as the blast rips through them, flinging them backward, their distorted forms melting, dripping back into the walls like ink retreating into parchment.

Most—stronger, more stubborn ones—are knocked off their feet. Then… a stillness.

The air crackles in the aftermath, the walls humming faintly as if they, too, felt the force of his departure.

And in the hollow silence, his promise lingers.

Maybe it was my anger at the situation, but my shadows suddenly surround me, all their heads bowed in submission, trembling under my repressed rage. It was a smart move, because I'm afraid if even a single one of them looked at me, there'd be no telling the kind of carnage I would unleash.

I want to kill him; I want his blood to paint my pearly-white floors. I want to tear him apart with my teeth. I want the monster to reveal itself and destroy every atom of his being—this kind of anger I haven't felt since I killed Ricci.

I smirk, darkly. Dangerously. I don’t know I’m doing it until my face aches. I want to destroy Damien, but I can't. That sly bastard took measures to ensure I couldn't kill him.

But more than that, I made a promise to be a leader. To make a home. Killing Damien would reveal my secret and ruin everything I've built. I can't break another promise; I won't.

Seth, my General, finally appears. He kneels before me, his eyes cast onto the ground. "Grand Arbiter," he grunts.

I gaze at my shadows, squirming on my floor, their figures rippling across like stones dropped into water—trembling with fear… and something darker. Hunger.

The castle groans, its bones shifting, wanting more. Whether it‘s blood or death, it doesn’t matter.

I realise now I let my bloodlust taint the air, allowing my hatred to bleed out through the cracks of my skin. Taking a deep breath, I calm myself.

"Pack our shit, Seth," I growl, my anger still simmering. "We're going to District 2."

I flick my gaze to Dame, who’s standing in the doorway staring at me. With one look, my intentions are made clear.

That Defect will become a problem.

I'll personally make sure of it.