We regrouped at the edge of the forgotten city, where cracked stone paths wound through ruins lost to time.
Moonlight spilled over the shattered remains like silver tears, highlighting the ghosts of what once was.
Oregon stood beside me, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. His touch was warm, grounding me like roots to the earth.
"You're holding steady," he said softly, voice tinged with concern.
"Barely," I admitted with a tired smile.
My heart was still racing, but my soul had already accepted the truth. It had known long before I did.
I was the longest undead soul.
I could feel it in my blood—a low hum beneath my skin, vibrating with power and memory.
The mark was no longer just a symbol. It was recognition. A heartbeat of something older than memory, older than myth.
Not created, but reborn. Not discovered, but remembered.
And now… only one mark remained.
The human immortal.
Vlad stepped forward, the hem of his cloak brushing against the broken stones. The weight of his gaze was a reminder that time was pressing forward.
"We need to return," he said, voice firm. "The last mark isn't here. It hides among the living—concealed in plain sight."
Xander's brow furrowed, his gaze distant.
"Legends say the human immortal wears no crown, wields no blade. They walk among the masses, unseen."
"Why?" Dylan asked, his arms folded tightly across his chest.
"To survive," Xander replied.
"To endure across centuries without drawing the wrath of those who would destroy them. Like us, they've learned that invisibility is protection—and the best way to deceive mortals is to blend in with them."
I drew a steady breath, my voice sure.
"Well, where do we begin?"
Vlad's voice dropped, like secrets slipping from shadowed corners.
"There are only whispers now—tales passed like rumors through time. But one thread repeats in every version: a healer who never aged. Whose touch could mend bone, heart… even soul."
Dylan's eyes widened.
"You mean the one with the private hospitals across the globe? CEO of Georgio Medical Group?"
"I believe so," Vlad nodded.
"Georgio hospital has passed through his bloodline for generations—or so it's claimed. But I suspect he has no descendants. Only new aliases."
Xander added, "He changes his name with each century, building a new identity. Always in the shadows. Always just out of reach. Officially, his ancestors founded the hospital. But I don't think the lineage is real."
"Could he be a vampire? A werewolf?" I asked, my brow was furrowed in thought.
"No," Xander said, his voice was low and tense.
"He's neither. And yet… he endures. I wonder what made him immortal."
"Then let's find him," I said, determined.
Xander hesitated.
"The only problem is…"
"What is it?" I asked, curiosity piqued.
"Nobody has ever actually seen him. He wears a mask and only allows a select few to meet him," Xander replied grimly.
I exhaled slowly.
"Now I understand why this might be our hardest mission yet."
"A perfect excuse for force and violence," Vlad muttered.
"No violence. That's a last resort," Oregon said firmly.
"I agree," I said, meeting Oregon's gaze. "We'll find another way."
Returning to the mortal world, I never anticipated the modern world crashing into me like a tidal wave. Everything felt too loud, too fast, and too bright.
The buzz of neon signs and the endless hum of traffic clashed with the storm inside me.
I had returned from ancient shadows carrying a truth that didn't belong here. And yet, I had to walk among the noise once more.
We agreed to keep our circle small—just the five of us. The weight of the prophecy, the fragile balance between immortals and mortals… it was a secret too dangerous to share. Too sacred.
But amid all the strategy and mystery, something tugged at the edge of my memory.
Keanu. My job at Daily Life.
"Guys," I said as we reached the gates of Xander's estate, "I need a break. Just a few days to tie up some loose ends… before we dive into the next storm."
Dylan gave a nod. "Same here. I've got shifts to cover at the beach. Can't let people drown just because you're destined to be an Alpha. I'll try to collect information about the CEO. See you later," he said before he left.
"I have to get to my people. In the meantime, I'll try to dive further into this matter." Vlad winked at me. "Until we meet again."
He looked at Xander and gave a slight nod.
Then he melted into the shadows. I sometimes forgot—he wasn't just our ally. He wasn't just the one who marked me. He was a legend. A sire. A king among monsters.
I planned to return to Xander's mansion—the place that once sheltered me when all of this had barely begun.
But Oregon...
He stood at the edge of the sidewalk, staring up at the sky as if it belonged to someone else. The city lights cast strange reflections in his eyes—curiosity, confusion, awe.
"This world of yours," he murmured, "it's so loud. And the air… it's poisoned. How do you live like this?"
He turned to me, earnest.
"You should return with me to the Hollow Hamlet when this is all over. You don't belong here either."
My heart clenched.
He didn't belong here, his very being a stark contrast to this world of exhaust fumes and flashing screens, for Oregon was forest-born, magic-breathed, a true nature spirit both wild and ancient in a way this modern world could never truly grasp.
He looked so out of place. And yet, so heartbreakingly sincere.
So I made a decision.
Later that night, I pulled Xander aside.
"Can I ask you something?" I said quietly.
He looked up, alert. "Of course."
"It's about Oregon," I began, choosing my words with care.
"He's never lived in this world. Everything is new to him. It's overwhelming. He needs time… and a safe place to adapt."
"He's a grown immortal," Xander said flatly. "Not a child."
"I know," I replied, stepping closer.
"But he's different. He was raised by nature, not smartphones and social rules. Please, let him stay with us."
Xander was silent. He studied me, eyes searching for something I couldn't name.
I added softly, "Remember… I've become his lady."
Something flickered in Xander's expression. Something unreadable. And then, with a sigh, he nodded.
"He can stay. But remind him—low profile. No elf magic."
A smile tugged at my lips. "Deal."