Tobias sat alone in the common lounge, boots kicked up on the low table, tea steaming in his hand. The quiet felt earned, like something he had fought for and finally won. For the first time in longer than he could remember, the heat inside him stayed quiet too.
Not gone. Just resting. Waiting. Content to let him breathe.
He didn't hear Kael enter. He felt him.
A ripple of familiar mischief rolled into the room like a warm breeze before the door even opened. Kael stepped inside wearing the expression Tobias knew far too well: wide eyes, too-bright grin, the look of a man who had already decided the night belonged to him.
Tobias sighed into his cup. "What do you want, Kael?"
Kael clutched his chest like he'd been shot. "Your instincts are terrifying. Truly, you're becoming a prophet. Or a stalker. Hard to tell."
"Kael."
"Fine, fine." Kael flopped onto the couch beside him, all restless energy and bright teeth. "I need a wingman."
Tobias lifted one brow. "You need a wingman."
"Yes."
"You."
"Yes."
"The same Kael who once talked his way into a vampire princess's bed and out again into her mother's good graces the same night."
Kael waved that off like it was ancient history. "This is different. This one actually matters. And I have matured." He paused. "A little. Microscopically. But enough to know I should not go alone."
Tobias waited for the old reflex: the quiet refusal, the polite excuse, the retreat to solitude. It never came.
Instead, something warm and steady unfolded in his chest. Confidence. Not borrowed. Not forced. Just there. Like it had been waiting for permission.
He set his mug down.
"Alright," he said simply. "I'll go."
Kael froze. Blinked. Processed.
"What did you just say?"
"I said I'll go."
"No argument?"
"No."
"No lecture about crowds or noise or 'I'd rather read tactical manuals'?"
Tobias shrugged, a slow smile tugging at his mouth. "Not tonight."
Kael's jaw actually dropped. Then his entire face lit up like sunrise.
"My brother," he whispered, grabbing Tobias's shoulders with both hands. "My glorious, evolving, terrifyingly confident brother. YES. This is the energy. This is the man I knew was hiding in there!"
"Please don't cry," Tobias said, fighting a grin.
"I might," Kael admitted, voice cracking dramatically. "I'm so proud."
Tobias stood, stretching, feeling the new balance in his limbs, the quiet certainty in his spine. "Give me five minutes."
Kael practically levitated off the couch. "Five minutes? You're already ready. You're glowing with readiness. You're radiating main-character energy. We're doing this."
Tobias disappeared into his room. When he came back in a dark shirt, fitted jacket, hair actually cooperating for once, Kael stopped mid-victory dance.
"You look dangerous," Kael said, circling him with mock-critical eyes. "In a good way. In a please-don't-break-anyone-too-badly way."
"You look loud," Tobias replied.
"Always."
They stepped into the corridor together. The evening lamps cast long shadows, but Tobias walked through them like he belonged there. No hesitation. No second-guessing.
Kael nudged him with an elbow. "Remember when you used to flinch if someone breathed too loud near you?"
"I remember," Tobias said, voice low and amused. "I also remember you never stopped breathing loud near me."
"Character building," Kael said cheerfully.
They reached the compound's main doors. Beyond them, Eldoria's night roared with music, lights, life.
A month ago Tobias would have felt the old flicker of dread.
Tonight he felt only anticipation.
Kael threw the doors open with theatrical flair. "Into the night, my newly terrifying friend."
Tobias stepped past him, shoulders loose, chin up, the faintest smirk playing at his lips.
"Try to keep up," he said.
Kael's delighted laughter echoed down the corridor as they walked out together, side by side, into a city that suddenly felt like it had been waiting for him.
The boy who once feared his own shadow was gone.
The man walking out tonight didn't fear much of anything anymore.
And the city was about to find out.
Night in Eldoria was a living thing.
Neon ribbons bled across the skyline. Bass lines rolled up from the streets like distant thunder. Hovercrafts painted the sky in streaks of violet and gold. Every corner pulsed with music, laughter, and the low, electric hum of a city that refused to sleep.
Tobias walked through it all with his hands in his pockets, shoulders loose, chin up. A month ago he would have felt like an intruder. Tonight the city felt like it was waiting for him.
Kael strutted beside him, waving at half the population. "Kael!" "Still owe me a drink, fox-boy!"
Tobias raised an eyebrow. "Do you actually know everyone?"
"I'm a man of the people," Kael said, flashing a grin. "Also, I'm very memorable."
"You're a walking incident report."
"Same thing."
They turned onto a street that throbbed with deeper bass. Ahead, a building shaped like a snarling beast's open maw glowed crimson and gold. Heatless flames licked the edges of the doorway. The sign above read DEVIL'S PLAYGROUND in letters that dripped like molten metal.
Tobias smirked. "Subtle."
Kael beamed. "It's perfect."
The line stretched halfway down the block, but Kael walked straight to the front. The massive werewolf bouncer took one look and stepped aside with a grin. "Kael. Try not to break anything expensive tonight."
"No promises."
Inside, the music hit like a physical force. Heavy, hungry, alive. Bodies moved in waves of color and skin and magic. Shifters radiated pheromones. Vampires glided like smoke. Fae light trailed from fingertips. The air tasted of spice, sweat, and raw want.
Kael navigated it like he'd built the place. They reached the bar in seconds.
"My man!" Kael shouted.
The silver-haired shifter bartender turned, laughed, and immediately started pouring glowing amber liquid into two glasses. "You brought fresh meat."
"Fresh legend," Kael corrected. "Be nice."
Drinks appeared. Shots first, then something taller and electric blue.
Tobias drank. The burn felt good. Clean.
Kael scanned the crowd. His grin faltered for half a heartbeat, then returned brighter.
"There," he said, nodding toward a corner booth.
A woman sat there, auburn hair catching the strobes, eyes sharp and laughing even from across the room. She spotted Kael and lifted her glass in salute.
Kael exhaled like he'd been holding his breath for weeks. "Wish me luck."
Tobias clapped his shoulder. "You don't need it."
Kael flashed a nervous smile (actual nerves, rare as snowfall in summer) and headed over to Gail.
Tobias watched him go, amusement warm in his chest. He turned back to the bar, ordered water, let the music settle into his bones.
Someone slid onto the stool beside him.
"Mind company?"
He glanced over.
Dark curls, violet eyes, the same easy smile that had punched him in the chest weeks ago at Club Heaven.
Amira.
Here.
Alive.
His heart stuttered.
"You," he said, voice rough.
"Me," she agreed, tilting her head. "You look different. Less like you're carrying the world."
He managed a laugh. "Feeling different."
"Good different?"
"Yeah."
They talked. Easy, like no time had passed. She teased him about the squad. He asked about her work in the fae archives. Drinks appeared. Laughter came natural.
When the music slowed, she stood and offered her hand.
"Dance?"
He took it.
On the floor she moved close, warm and certain. Her hands found his shoulders. His settled at her waist. The crowd blurred.
"You're not afraid anymore," she said against his ear.
"Not tonight."
She smiled into his neck. "Good."
Heat built, familiar but welcome. Not the inner fire. Just want. Just life.
Hours slipped away.
Kael found him later, grinning ear to ear, auburn-haired woman tucked under his arm.
"We're heading out," Kael said. "You good?"
Tobias glanced at Amira, her hand still in his.
"Yeah," he said. "I'm good."
Kael's grin widened. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"That leaves everything open."
"Exactly."
They parted ways.
Amira led him to a quieter place, a small apartment above a spell-shop, windows open to the city hum.
They stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind them. The room was soft-lit by floating orbs that cast a warm glow over worn bookshelves and a rumpled bed. Amira turned to him, violet eyes catching the light, her smile turning shy but certain.
She stepped closer, hands sliding up his arms to his shoulders. "I've thought about you," she said quietly, fingers tracing the line of his jacket. "Since that night."
"Me too," he admitted, voice low. His hands found her waist, pulling her gently against him. The warmth of her body pressed close, her breath quickening as she tilted her head up.
Their first kiss was slow, tentative, like testing fragile glass. Her lips soft, tasting faintly of the club's sweet drinks. He deepened it, one hand cupping her face, thumb brushing her cheek. She sighed into him, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers threading through his hair.
Clothes fell away gradually. Her dress slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet like spilled ink. He shrugged off his jacket, shirt following, her hands exploring the planes of his chest with light, curious touches that sent sparks racing under his skin. They moved to the bed, laughter bubbling up when she tripped over a discarded shoe, pulling him down with her.
Lying together, skin to skin, the urgency built. Her breath hitched as his lips traced her collarbone, down to the curve of her breast. His tongue circling slowly, teasing until she gasped and arched beneath him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, nails biting just enough to sting sweetly. He felt her want mirror his own (passion coiling tight in his chest, every touch electric, every sigh pulling him deeper).
She rolled them over, straddling his hips, dark curls falling around her face as she looked down at him. Her hands splayed across his chest, nails dragging lightly down to his abdomen, making him groan. She leaned forward, breasts brushing his skin, lips capturing his in a hungry kiss while her hips rocked slowly against him, teasing the hard length of him through the last barrier of fabric.
He flipped her back beneath him, hands sliding down her sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts before continuing lower. His fingers traced the soft skin of her inner thighs, parting them gently. She was already wet, slick and ready, and the feel of her made him throb with need. He stroked her slowly at first, fingers circling her in lazy rhythms that had her hips bucking, breath coming in soft moans against his neck.
"Tobias," she whispered, voice trembling with want. "Please."
He positioned himself between her thighs, eyes locked on hers as he pushed in slowly savoring the tight heat enveloping him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, nails raking down his back as they found their rhythm. Slow, deep thrusts at first, building to faster, harder strokes that had the headboard slamming against the wall.
Time slowed and wrapped as they spent the night exploring every inch of each others body. As things slowly began to come back to reality, she came first, clenching around him, crying out his name as waves of pleasure shook her body. The sight and feel of her unraveling pushed him over the edge; he buried himself deep, groaning her name as release crashed through him.
They collapsed together, sweat-slick and breathless, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back as their heartbeats slowed.
Everything felt right.
Then black.
He woke to metallic scent.
Blood.
His stomach lurched.
He sat up too fast. The world tilted. Sheets clung to his skin, soaked through. He looked down at his hands.
Red. Everywhere.
The memories came in broken pieces.
Amira laughing. Her hands tearing at his shirt. The way she had looked at him like he was someone lost but now found. Heat. Blinding, consuming heat. Then nothing.
He threw the sheets aside.
Amira lay on the floor.
Body twisted at an angle no living thing could hold. Throat opened in a smile of red. Eyes frozen wide, staring at nothing.
The sound that left Tobias's throat wasn't human.
He stumbled from the bed, knees hitting carpet, hands scrabbling over her, searching for a pulse he knew wasn't there.
"No," he whispered. "No no no no no."
Blood smeared across his palms, warm and accusing.
A voice slid through the dark like a blade wrapped in silk.
"Well, well. Look what the night dragged in."
Tobias's head snapped up.
Seraphine stood by the window, half-lit by the city glow, silver hair spilling like frost, crimson eyes unreadable. Poised. Perfect. Watching him like he was a puzzle she hadn't decided to solve or burn.
He couldn't speak.
Seraphine stepped forward, slow, deliberate. "When I arrived, everything looked exactly like this. You on the bed. Her on the floor. Nothing moved. Nothing touched."
Tobias's voice cracked. "Did I…"
"I don't know," she said, calm and terrible. "But you were unconscious when I walked in. Deep enough that I couldn't wake you."
He stared at his blood-soaked hands. "Then I did it before I…"
"There was no struggle," she cut in, voice soft but sharp. "No scent of fear. No defensive wounds. No trace of magic or resistance. Whatever happened, she didn't fight."
Tobias felt the world collapse inward. He had killed before, but that was survival. Kill or be killed. This was different. Intimate. Wrong.
Seraphine crouched beside him, close enough that he caught roses and copper beneath the blood. Her gaze flicked over Amira's body, clinical, then back to him.
"I smelled something on you," she said quietly. "Not the resonance we know. Something else. It pulled me here."
He looked at her, throat raw. "Tell me I didn't do this."
Seraphine's expression didn't change, but her voice dropped to something almost gentle.
"I can't tell you that, Tobias."
She reached out, fingertips hovering over his cheek without touching. "But I can tell you this: whatever did this wasn't entirely you."
Her eyes glowed faintly in the dark.
Tobias could not breathe.
His chest locked so tight he felt his ribs might splinter inward. The blood on his hands was warm, sticky, accusing. Every tremor that ran through him carried the same question, over and over, until it became a scream inside his skull.
I did this. I did this. I did this.
Seraphine crouched in front of him, crimson eyes steady, voice low and deliberate. "Tobias. Look at me."
He couldn't.
She took his blood-slick chin in cool fingers and forced his gaze to hers.
"Listen to me," she said, soft but unyielding. "If you break now, you drown. Breathe with me."
He tried. One ragged inhale. One shaking exhale.
"Good," she murmured. "Again."
Before he could manage a third breath, the door exploded open.
"Tobias! Gail took off but wow man what a…"
Kael's voice died mid-word.
He took in the room in one heartbeat: the blood, the body, Tobias on his knees shaking apart, Seraphine crouched like a dark guardian.
Kael didn't freeze.
He moved.
In two strides he was on the floor, arms wrapping around Tobias so hard it hurt, pulling him up against his chest like he could shield him from the entire world.
"Oh shit man," Kael whispered, voice cracking. "Brother. I'm here. I'm here. I've got you."
Tobias folded into him, a broken sound tearing free. "Kael… I think I killed her. I don't remember. I can't…"
Kael's grip tightened until Tobias could feel his heartbeat through both their shirts. "I don't care what it looks like," Kael said fiercely against his hair. "I don't care what anyone says. You are my family. Family doesn't get left behind. Ever."
Seraphine rose in one fluid motion, expression shifting from gentle to razor steel.
"This will not fall on him," she said, voice flat and final.
Kael looked up, eyes blazing wet but ferocious. "Good. Because I will burn this building down to cover for my family."
Seraphine's lips curved, not quite a smile. "Unnecessary. But noted."
She stepped to Amira's body, movements clinical, precise, already cataloguing every detail with predator focus.
"When I arrived," she said clearly, "the scene was exactly as you see it. Tobias unconscious on the bed. The girl already dead. No movement. No struggle in the air. No scent of resistance or magic."
Kael swallowed hard, arms still locked around Tobias. "So you don't think he…"
"I think," Seraphine cut in, "there is no evidence yet. And until there is, we control the story."
She turned to Tobias, gaze piercing but not unkind.
"You will not carry this alone," she said. "Not tonight. Not ever. We investigate. Quietly. Thoroughly. On our terms."
Tobias's voice was barely a whisper. "You'd risk everything for me?"
Kael answered before Seraphine could, fierce and certain. "You're not a risk. You're my brother."
Seraphine nodded once.
She extended a hand to help Tobias stand.
"Now up. Both of you. We remove him from the scene. We clean what must be cleaned. We find the truth before anyone else does."
Tobias stared at her hand, trembling.
Kael hauled him to his feet anyway, steady as stone.
"I've got you," Kael said again.
Seraphine moved to the door, listening for footsteps that hadn't come yet.
Her voice was calm, absolute.
"This is our problem now. And we handle our own."
The three stood together in the ruined room, bound by blood and loyalty and a darkness none of them fully understood yet.
Outside, the city kept breathing.
Inside, the night had only just begun to burn.