Diego’s fingers twitched.Just a tremor.But it was enough to freeze every creature in the hallway.Dominic straightened.Leo held Claire tighter.Lucian and Rhett both drew weapons.Lewis smiled like he had been waiting for this exact moment.Eamon’s eyes glowed with amusement.And the Unknown Man whispered:“…Wake, little sovereign.”The golden cracks on the floor pulsed once—twice—then Diego’s eyes snapped open.Not brown.Not gold.Something in between:unstable, trembling, broken-light gold.A storm trapped behind glass.He inhaled sharply, clutching his chest as if the world slammed back into him all at once.Claire gasped.“Uncle Liam…!”Her voice cut through the chaos like a blade.Diego turned toward her instantly.His eyes softened—just for her—then hardened again when he saw the shadows gathering behind the Unknown Man.---“Claire…” he whispered.Just one word.Weak. Shaken. Barely audible.But it meant he was awake enough to feel fear.Leo held Claire back.“Stay with

The rain hadn’t stopped all nightIt traced slow lines down the windshield, blurring the city into streaks of red and gold as Detective Mira sat behind the wheel of her unmarked car.Someone was in the passenger seat.She felt it before she saw him.“You know,” she said calmly, eyes still on the road,“most people knock.”The man beside her didn’t move.Didn’t flinch.“I never was most people,” he replied.Her hands tightened on the steering wheel.That voice.Her breath caught before she could stop it.She turned.And the world tilted.“…Lucian?”He sat exactly as she remembered — too still, too composed, eyes watching everything without looking at anything at all.Alive.Impossible.Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs.“No,” she whispered. “No, you’re dead.”Lucian didn’t smile.“I hear that a lot.”--Mira shoved the car into park.“You disappeared,” she said, voice shaking now.“You were declared dead. Closed casket. No body. No explanation.”Lucian looked away.“I didn’t

The night was quiet.Too quiet.The Evans house looked exactly the same as it always had—warm lights behind drawn curtains, the porch lamp flickering softly like it did every night Claire was gone.As if the house itself had been waiting.Across the street, hidden in the shadows, Leo stood alone.Claire was bundled in his arms, fast asleep. Her face was peaceful now, lashes resting against her cheeks, unaware of how close she had come to never seeing this house again.Leo’s body burned with pain. His wounds were barely holding together. Blood soaked through his clothes.None of it mattered.Claire was home.He crossed the street silently and stopped at the edge of the porch.For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at the door.This was as far as he could go.He gently lowered Claire onto the porch, wrapping her in his jacket to keep her warm. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering just a second too long.“You're save now."He straightened quickly befo

The jacket hit the evidence table with a dull thud.Too heavy for fabric.Too quiet for something that should have told a story.Detective Mira stared at it longer than protocol allowed.James noticed.“You’re thinking the same thing I am,” he said, setting his coffee down untouched.Mira didn’t look up.“This doesn’t feel like a kidnapping,” she said. “And it doesn’t feel like a rescue either.”James frowned. “Then what does it feel like?”Mira exhaled slowly.“A return.”---The lab lights hummed as the jacket was photographed from every angle.Sleeves.Stitching.Lining.Seams.Nothing screamed brand.Nothing pointed to origin.Too clean.Too careful.James leaned over the table. “No fibers from a vehicle. No dirt from outside the city. No traceable scent markers.”Mira ran a gloved finger along the inner seam.“And no DNA,” she added quietly. “Not even touch DNA. Whoever wore this knew how to erase themselves.”James straightened.“Or,” he muttered before he could stop himself, “t

The Underworld never slept.It breathed.Stone walls pulsed faintly with ancient magic, veins of crimson light threading through obsidian floors like living arteries. The air was thick—sulfur, blood, and something far older than memory. Something aware.Lewis stood on a raised platform carved from black stone, overlooking a vast chamber that descended endlessly into darkness.This was not a place for kings.This was where kings were unmade.Before him, suspended in the air by unseen forces, a massive projection shimmered into existence—blood-magic shaped into sight.Dominic Monaghan.The toast echoed through the chamber, his voice distorted but unmistakable. Applause thundered from the other side of the world.Lewis watched without blinking.Diego stood beside their father—silent, pale, obedient. His posture rigid. His eyes dull.A crown without a will.A leash disguised as lineage.Lewis’s fingers curled slowly at his side.“So,” he said quietly, his voice carrying through the cavern