The soft hum of the laptop echoed in the quiet room as the video conference connected. The screen flickered for a moment before stabilizing, revealing Michael’s composed face framed by the backdrop of his office. Beside him sat Rafail, his second-in-command, his expression calm but sharp, and Miel, who watched with a quiet intensity. Their father, Solomon, completed the scene—a figure of authority and wisdom whose gaze seemed to pierce straight through the screen.

  Diarmid sat beside me, his presence solid and reassuring, while his pack—Brigit, Finn, Rhyian, and Roisin—occupied the seats around us, their expressions a mix of curiosity and resolve.

  “Let’s get straight to the point,” Michael began, his tone brisk yet steady. “Both sides have gathered significant intel, but the missing piece remains: Why Azrael showed up specifically for Arwen.”

  The mention of Azrael’s name sent a ripple of tension through the room. My fingers instinctively curled against my lap, the weight of everyone’s eyes subtly shifting toward me, though no one said it outright. I kept my gaze focused on the screen, unwilling to let my unease show.

  Rafail leaned forward, his sharp features framed by the screen. “We’ve traced his movements to areas connected to ancient Nephilim lore, but there’s no clear indication of why he intervened here.”

  Miel added, her voice softer but no less firm, “The timing isn’t coincidental. If Arwen is connected to this, we need clarity.”

  Diarmid’s hand rested on my knee, a grounding touch that helped steady my fraying nerves. He spoke, his tone controlled, yet carrying an undercurrent of protectiveness. “We’re working to uncover more on our end. There’s movement among factions we’ve never encountered before—likely tied to Azrael’s appearance.”

  Solomon, who had been silent, finally spoke, his voice deep and resonant. “The girl.” His eyes locked onto me through the screen, sharp and probing. “Arwen.”

  The sound of my name in his voice felt heavy, weighted with meaning I didn’t yet understand. His scrutiny was palpable, even through the digital barrier. I fought the instinct to fidget under his gaze, determined not to let my discomfort show.

  “She’s not just a Nephilim,” Solomon said, his words slow and deliberate. “Azrael’s presence isn’t random. She holds a significance we have yet to uncover.”

  My stomach tightened at his words. I had questions of my own—questions that burned inside me—but I remained silent. I wasn’t ready to speak, not with so many unknowns still swirling around us.

  “We’ll continue our search,” Michael interjected, steering the conversation back on track. “For now, we recommend maintaining an unpredictable schedule. Arwen and Diarmid should keep attending the university to avoid drawing suspicion.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement, the plan taking shape as the conversation wound down. The screen dimmed as Michael ended the call, leaving the room in silence save for the faint buzz of the cooling laptop.

  Diarmid turned to me, his eyes searching mine. “You’ve been quiet.”

  I hesitated, glancing toward the others, who were already starting to disperse. “Not here,” I said softly.

  His gaze lingered, unreadable, but he nodded. “Later then.”

  I stayed seated as the others filed out, their voices fading into the hallway. My thoughts swirled, Solomon’s words replaying in my mind. Azrael. Me. The missing piece. It was a puzzle I wasn’t sure I was ready to solve, but one I knew I couldn’t ignore.

  Once we are left to ourselves, I blurted out what I'm meaning to say.

  “Mr. Solomon’s words keep nagging me.” I cried out.

  Diarmid’s expression shifted as he heard Arwen's words. Her unease was palpable, and he couldn’t help but feel protective, even though he didn’t have all the answers himself.

  He stepped closer, his tone softer but still filled with the weight of experience.

  “What he said... It could mean a lot of things, Arwen. People like Michael’s father—those with power—aren’t always clear with their words. They like to plant seeds of doubt, make you second-guess things. The question is, what part of you is he trying to target?”

  He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a quiet whisper.

  “Is it your place in all of this? Your bloodline? Or is it something about us—about what’s coming with the connection between you and me?”

  His eyes locked with hers, searching for any hint of understanding or recognition.

  “I don’t have all the answers, Arwen. But I think... I think something bigger is in play. And it might involve more than just us.” He paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words settle.

  "But whatever it is, we'll face it together."

  He gave her a small, reassuring smile, even though his mind was racing. There were far too many unknowns right now, and he was sure that Michael’s father’s words were just the beginning of something far darker.

  Diarmid suggested we spend the evening together with the others, calling it a meeting but quickly correcting himself. “A hangout,” he said with a small grin, as if trying to downplay the sense of formality that the word "meeting" brought. It felt more like an invitation to reconnect than a strategy session, and I appreciated that.

  The warmth of Diarmid’s home greeted us as we stepped into the spacious living room. It was a blend of rustic charm and modern comfort, with soft lighting that made the large space feel cozy. Brigit, Finn, Rhyian, and Roisin were already there, lounging on the plush couches with an air of familiarity that spoke to years of shared camaraderie.

  “Finally!” Brigit called out, waving us over. “We were starting to think you two got lost.”

  “Not lost,” Diarmid said smoothly, guiding me to an open seat. “Just making sure Arwen doesn’t run off again.”

  I shot him a mock glare, but it softened quickly under his teasing smile. Brigit smirked, exchanging a glance with Finn, who leaned back lazily in his chair.

  “Alright, we’re here,” Diarmid said as he sat beside me, his tone casual but his posture attentive. “Let’s talk.”

  “About?” Finn drawled, raising a brow.

  “Everything,” Diarmid replied simply. “Michael’s father, the hooded figure, the strange activity at the university—take your pick.”

  Rhyian, always the more analytical of the twins, leaned forward. “The hooded figure is priority one. If they’re tied to Azrael or anything connected to Arwen’s family, we need to be ready.”

  “I don’t think they’ve approached anyone directly,” Roisin added. “But I’ve noticed more...lurking. They’re not just watching Arwen anymore; they’re watching us.”

  The room fell silent at her words, the gravity of the situation settling over us. I felt Diarmid’s hand rest lightly on my back, grounding me.

  “Well,” Brigit said, breaking the tension with her usual bluntness. “If they’re watching, we give them a show. Make it clear they’re not dealing with amateurs.”

  “They already know that,” Diarmid said. His voice was calm but carried a warning edge. “The question is, how much do they know about Arwen?”

  “And why do they care so much,” Finn added. “It’s not just her bloodline. It can’t be.”

  The conversation shifted into planning mode, strategies forming as the group spoke in the easy rhythm of long-time friends. Despite the seriousness of the topic, there was an undercurrent of comfort in their interactions—a sense of unity that I couldn’t help but be drawn into.

  At some point, Brigit nudged me with her foot. “You okay, Arwen?”

  I blinked, realizing I’d been quiet for a while. “Yeah,” I said, offering a small smile. “Just...a lot to take in.”

  Brigit grinned. “Welcome to the chaos. You’ll get used to it.”

  I wasn’t so sure, but sitting there among them—Diarmid’s hand steady against my back, the warmth of his friends’ camaraderie surrounding me—I felt, for the first time, that I wasn’t facing this alone.

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  “Has anyone else noticed what Roisin mentioned? The lurking?” Diarmid asked, his voice carrying the weight of his leadership. His gaze shifted between the group, waiting for someone to speak.

  “Well, it wasn’t exactly me,” Roisin admitted, his tone thoughtful. “Ross, one of the warriors Michael sent to keep watch, mentioned spotting someone—or something—near the edge of the property. That was after we left for school yesterday.”

  Diarmid nodded, his expression darkening. “And they didn’t confront it?”

  “No,” Roisin replied, his sharp eyes meeting Diarmid’s. “Ross said it disappeared before they could get close enough. Like it knew it had been seen.”

  “Convenient,” Finn muttered, leaning back with a scowl. “Almost like it wants us to know it’s there, but not enough to give us any clues.”

  Diarmid's jaw tightened, his mind already working through possible implications. The room grew quieter as the weight of Roisin’s words settled.

  “I have something to say,” I began hesitantly, drawing everyone’s attention. Diarmid’s gaze softened slightly as it shifted to me, silently encouraging me to continue.

  “We keep referring to the hooded figure like it’s someone—or something—solid,” I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. “But I’ve encountered it a few times now, and I don’t think it’s...physical. At least not entirely.”

  “What do you mean?” Brigit asked, her brow furrowing as she leaned forward.

  “It’s more like an entity,” I explained, struggling to put the sensation into words. “Or maybe a mist...or a spirit. Something we can’t hold or touch. When it’s there, it feels real, but the moment it’s gone, it’s like it was never there to begin with.”

  Rhyian tilted her head thoughtfully. “That would explain why it’s been so hard to track. If it’s not solid, then conventional methods wouldn’t work.”

  “Which raises another question,” Finn said, his voice laced with frustration. “What exactly are we dealing with? And why is it so focused on Arwen?”

  Diarmid’s hand brushed lightly against my back, a subtle reminder that I wasn’t alone in this. “If it’s an entity,” he said, his tone contemplative, “then it’s not just stalking you. It’s tied to something bigger. Something ancient.”

  Roisin folded his arms, his sharp features etched with determination. “We need more intel. Whether it’s physical or not, it leaves traces. It has to. We just haven’t found them yet.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out,” Rhyian said, her voice firm. “And I’ll tell Ross to double his patrols. If it shows itself again, we’ll be ready.”

  Diarmid’s gaze lingered on me, his eyes searching. “And you, Arwen? Do you feel it, even when it’s not visible?”

  I hesitated, then nodded. “Sometimes. It’s like...a weight in the air. A coldness that seeps in, even if I don’t see anything.”

  Diarmid exhaled sharply, his protective instincts flaring. “Then we don’t let our guard down. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

  The group exchanged determined glances, their unity and resolve clear. Though fear lingered at the edges of my mind, I found strength in their presence. Diarmid’s steady confidence, Brigit’s fierce loyalty, Finn’s sharp mind, and the twins’ unwavering dedication made it clear that I wasn’t facing this alone.

  The weight of my words hung in the air as I took a deep breath and looked around the room. Every pair of eyes was fixed on me, the pack’s expressions ranging from concern to curiosity.

  “I also wanted to let you guys know about my connection to some bloodline—Azrael,” I began, my voice quieter than usual. “I’ve been thinking about it, and it all started when I had my birthday.” I glanced at Diarmid, then back at everyone. “First, I saw the figure... but it felt like the Grim Reaper, not just some shadow lurking around.”

  Diarmid's gaze sharpened, but he didn’t interrupt. He knew I needed to get it out.

  “Then Nick disappeared, and for a while, we didn’t have any clues. But then… there was the glowing incident. I glowed—like what you guys saw a few days ago. After that, Nick and I started communicating in my dreams,” I continued, the words feeling heavy as I said them aloud.

  Rhyian spoke up, her voice gentle but filled with understanding. “You think it’s connected, right? The figure, Nick’s disappearance, and the glowing?”

  I nodded slowly. “Yes. And I think... Nick is in another realm, in a different time. I feel like when I’m there, I go to see his future or something, and then I come back to my present time. It’s confusing, and I don’t know what to think anymore, honestly. But now, with Azrael involved in all this…” My voice trailed off, uncertainty clouding my words.

  Brigit leaned forward, her eyes intense. “Azrael’s presence is no coincidence. If he’s involved, it’s bigger than we thought. That connection—whatever it is—it’s going to lead us to answers, even if we don’t fully understand it yet.”

  “I don’t understand any of it,” I admitted, my hands fidgeting in my lap. “But I don’t think we’re just dealing with Nick’s disappearance or some random figure. Azrael has his reasons, and I think they’re connected to me.”

  Diarmid’s hand reached for mine, his touch grounding me. His voice was steady, even though his mind was clearly racing with the implications. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together. I promise you that.”

  “We’re in this together, Arwen,” Roisin added firmly. “No matter how strange or confusing it gets.”

  Finn nodded. “There’s more going on here than just the surface. We’ll help you get to the bottom of it.”

  I met Diarmid’s gaze, finding some peace in the certainty there. As much as I was lost in the mystery of it all, I wasn’t alone. Not anymore. And that, in itself, was a step toward facing whatever was coming next.

  It was Monday morning, and I could hardly believe I was actually excited to go to school. The air was freezing cold, and the days had grown shorter, but something about today felt different. Maybe it was the sense of purpose that had been growing inside me over the past week. It had been a week since I last communicated with my parents, and I’d talked to Michael, who assured me they were fine. I still couldn’t shake the worry, but knowing they were safe gave me a little peace of mind.

  We had also informed Michael about our theory with the hooded figure. He seemed to welcome the idea, though I knew we still didn’t have enough concrete evidence to move forward. Still, just sharing it with someone felt like a step in the right direction. And even if it wasn’t much, for once, I felt like I was contributing, like I wasn’t just standing on the sidelines.

  With a sigh, I turned to my closet to pick out something suitable for the chilly weather. I went for something that would keep me warm but also let me feel confident—because if I was going to face whatever was coming, I wanted to feel like myself.

  I pulled out a pair of dark, fitted jeans that hugged my legs comfortably, not too tight but enough to keep me warm. I paired them with a cozy, oversized sweater in a deep burgundy color—soft but stylish. The sleeves were long enough to cover my hands when I pulled them down, but they had a slight roll to the cuffs that kept them in place. To add some flair, I added a chic, faux-fur-lined, cropped jacket in charcoal gray. It was snug around my waist and added a bit of a trendy edge to the outfit.

  For footwear, I chose a pair of ankle-high, flat boots with a bit of a heel. They were practical for walking around campus but still gave me that little extra boost. A light scarf in a soft, pastel pink completed the look, adding a touch of warmth without making me feel too bundled up.

  I caught my reflection in the mirror. For once, I didn’t just see someone caught in the chaos of the unknown; I saw someone ready to take on whatever came next—whatever that might be.

  With a small smile, I grabbed my bag and headed out, feeling a little more prepared than I had the day before.

  As I walked downstairs, I found Diarmid already awake, his usual strength and presence evident as he moved with purpose through the living room. It was a bit earlier than usual, but I understood why. He had a meeting with Finn—something about pack matters that I didn’t fully understand yet. He caught my gaze and gave me a small nod, his expression serious, though his eyes softened when they met mine.

  Brigit was already seated on the couch, scrolling silently through her phone. Her focus seemed intense, though she still gave me a quick glance as I entered. The twins, Roisin and Rhyian, were nowhere to be seen. Probably already outside, taking care of whatever tasks they had lined up for the day. They were always moving, always active.

  I looked down at my phone, feeling a slight smile tug at my lips. Josh had already sent me his usual morning message. It was a routine we’d established over the past few months. Simple, but comforting—just a few words of “Good morning, Arwen,” or “Hope you have a good day, take care.” He was always thoughtful like that, even from afar. I liked knowing that someone cared, even if they were far away.

  I quickly replied to his message, feeling a brief warmth in my chest. Even amidst the growing tension with the hooded figure and everything else going on, it was a small, steady comfort to have these little routines. As I hit send, I looked up at Diarmid, who was watching me quietly. There was something in his gaze—a quiet understanding, as if he knew exactly what I needed without having to ask.

  “Morning,” I greeted softly, my voice still a little sleepy but content.

  As I watched Arwen stand there, her figure bathed in the soft light from the hallway, I couldn't help but feel a rush of admiration. The winter clothes she’d chosen suited her perfectly—an effortless blend of style and comfort that always seemed to highlight how effortlessly beautiful she was, even without trying.

  The dark jeans hugged her legs just right, the fabric sleek yet soft enough for the chill of the morning. The fitted, long-sleeved sweater she wore was a deep shade of burgundy that made her skin glow with warmth. The soft knit clung to her frame, emphasizing the graceful curve of her shoulders and the delicate way her hands moved as she checked her phone. Over it, she had on a cozy, oversized jacket that looked warm but still stylish, the kind of thing you’d expect to see on a runway, not just walking down the street. It was a perfect contrast of warmth and beauty, and I couldn't help but feel drawn to her more than usual today.

  Her hair, slightly tousled from sleep, framed her face in a way that made my chest tighten. There was something so natural about her—her presence, the way she stood there, so comfortable in her own skin. Yet, there was a quiet sadness lingering beneath the surface, something she didn’t always show but I could see in the way her eyes sometimes drifted, lost in thought. I knew she was still trying to figure things out, trying to piece together all the fragments of her life, and I couldn’t help but feel protective of her.

  I caught myself admiring her, but I wasn’t the only one who noticed how she seemed to radiate a quiet confidence, even in the midst of uncertainty. There was something about Arwen that made her glow—like she carried an energy with her that was impossible to ignore. Even in her most vulnerable moments, she had this resilience about her.

  I could see it in the way her eyes brightened when she looked at me, even if only for a moment. That warmth, that connection, always had a way of grounding me, no matter how difficult things got. And today, as we stood there, I could sense it again, that unspoken understanding between us.

  “You look stunning, hun.” I said, my voice softer than usual, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

  I could see her cheeks flush slightly, and her lips curved into a soft, shy smile. There was still a bit of hesitation in her, the same wariness I always noticed when I complimented her, but it didn’t bother me. I liked it—liked that she wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with my attention, and yet, she still let me in.

  “You think so?” she asked, her voice light, almost playful, but there was an undercurrent of vulnerability there, as if she wasn’t sure if she was getting it right.

  I nodded, stepping a little closer, my gaze softening as I looked at her. “I know so.”

  She smiled fully now, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn’t exist. It was just the two of us, the quiet between us stretching out into something comfortable and familiar.

  Even with everything else hanging over us, with the dangers and uncertainties ahead, moments like this made it feel like everything might just be okay, even for a little while.