The city was never quiet. Even in the dead of night, its pulse was constant—neon lights flickering, the distant hum of traffic, the soft whisper of voices in the dark corners. Alaric was used to it now. He no longer felt like an outsider in the city, but instead like a man who had claimed his place in the heart of it.

  But tonight, as he sat in his dimly lit office, staring at the map of the city that had become both his playground and his battleground, something felt different. The air was thick with the weight of his choices.

  His phone buzzed, cutting through the quiet. It was a message from Celeste.

  “You’ve been distant lately. We need to talk.”

  The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Alaric stared at the message for a long time, his fingers hovering over the screen. He knew what was coming—another confrontation, another plea for him to step back, to return to the man he had once been.

  But he wasn’t that man anymore. And he couldn’t go back.

  He let the phone sit on his desk for a moment before picking it up and texting a simple reply: “Later.” He knew it wasn’t enough. But right now, there were other matters to deal with.

  Balen stepped into the room, his expression grim. “We have a problem.”

  Alaric raised an eyebrow, pushing his thoughts of Celeste aside. “What kind of problem?”

  “The Hollow Society is making their move,” Balen said, dropping a file onto the desk. “We’ve got intel that they’re sending an emissary to meet with the Kendrick family tomorrow. They’re planning something big—something that could shake the foundations of the city.”

  Alaric studied the file, his mind already calculating the possibilities. He had anticipated this. The Hollow Society had been waiting for him to make his move, and now they were forcing his hand.

  “Where are they meeting?” Alaric asked, his voice cold and focused.

  “Kendrick’s private estate. They’ll be expecting us to stay in the shadows, but we can’t afford to wait. We need to strike first.”

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  Alaric nodded. “Set it up. We move tonight.”

  The night was their ally, and Alaric knew how to use the city’s shadows to his advantage. As they moved through the alleys toward the Kendrick estate, Alaric could feel the tension building in the air. This was it—the moment that would shift everything in the city. He was no longer just reacting to the threats around him. He was making the first move.

  The Kendrick estate loomed ahead, an imposing structure surrounded by high walls and watchful guards. Alaric and his team moved quickly, silently, using the cover of the night to infiltrate the grounds.

  As they approached the main entrance, Alaric took a deep breath, focusing his mind. The ancient techniques he had unlocked were still foreign to him in many ways, but they were becoming more natural with each passing day. He could feel the pulse of energy in the air, the hum of power that had always been there, waiting to be awakened.

  “Ready?” Balen whispered.

  “Always,” Alaric replied, his voice steady.

  They breached the front gate with precision, taking out the guards before they could sound the alarm. The estate’s interior was just as grand as the exterior—luxurious furnishings, marble floors, and crystal chandeliers. But tonight, it was about to become the stage for a very different kind of drama.

  Lord Kendrick was seated in a grand study, flanked by his closest allies. As Alaric and his team entered the room, the tension in the air was palpable. Lord Kendrick’s face twisted in surprise, quickly replaced by cold anger.

  “Alaric Vane,” Lord Kendrick sneered. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m doing what I should’ve done a long time ago,” Alaric said, his voice calm but filled with a quiet intensity. “Taking what is mine.”

  The room was silent as Alaric moved closer to the table, his eyes locked on Lord Kendrick. The others in the room remained still, unsure of what to do. Alaric was no longer the quiet, unassuming man they had once dismissed. He was the heir of a bloodline that had been lost, a man who had returned with a vengeance.

  “I’m here to offer you a choice,” Alaric continued. “You can join me, and we can build something greater than either of us alone. Or you can stand in my way, and I will destroy everything you’ve built.”

  Lord Kendrick laughed bitterly. “You think you can just walk in here and—”

  Before he could finish, Alaric raised his hand. A flicker of energy rippled through the room, and for a split second, the lights flickered. Alaric’s eyes glowed faintly as the air around them thickened.

  “I’m not asking for permission,” Alaric said, his voice steady and dangerous. “I’m telling you what will happen.”

  The Kendrick family members looked at each other in fear. Alaric could see their hesitation, their uncertainty. This was what it meant to carry the Vane bloodline: to command the room without raising your voice, to make people understand that defying you was a mistake they could never recover from.

  Lord Kendrick swallowed, his bravado gone. “What do you want?”

  “I want control,” Alaric replied. “Of this city. Of its power. And of the future.”