The Lykan Hypersport tore through the rain-slicked streets like a crimson bullet.
Elian gripped the wheel tighter as the city blurred past — twisted reflections on the wet asphalt, neon lights bleeding like wounded colors across the ground.
Beside him, Sophie sat tense, clutching the seatbelt so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Neither of them spoke.
The GPS in the car had turned itself on, showing a single blinking destination:
Velvet Heights.
An abandoned luxury apartment complex at the edge of town.
Rumors said it had once belonged to the Frost family — before it was left to rot like a forgotten corpse.
The perfect place for secrets.
The perfect place for a trap.
---
As they neared Velvet Heights, the city gave way to broken roads and fog-drenched emptiness.
The buildings loomed like skeletal giants, windows shattered, graffiti bleeding down the crumbling walls.
The Lykan's headlights caught shapes moving in the mist — rats, stray dogs, maybe worse.
Elian's heart hammered in his chest.
He felt it deep in his bones.
This night would change everything.
---
They parked in the shadows of a collapsed parking structure.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle, dripping like sorrow from the broken gutters.
Sophie stepped out first, wrapping Elian's hoodie tighter around her thin frame.
Elian followed, every nerve screaming at him to turn back.
But there was no turning back now.
---
At the entrance to Velvet Heights, a figure waited.
A tall man in a sleek black suit, his face hidden behind a wolf-shaped mask.
He leaned casually against a cracked marble pillar, as if this was just another day at the office.
When he spoke, his voice was low, mechanical, distorted.
> "You kept the locket. Good."
Elian said nothing.
The man tilted his head, studying them both.
> "Bring it here. You've been summoned."
Summoned?
By who?
Elian didn't move.
"Who are you?" he asked instead.
The man chuckled, a dark, hollow sound.
> "You already know. Or you will. Soon."
With that, he turned and disappeared into the darkness of the building.
Without thinking, Elian grabbed Sophie's hand and followed.
---
Inside, Velvet Heights was even worse than it looked from the outside.
Mold crawled up the once-glittering walls.
The grand chandelier lay shattered on the marble floor.
A rank, damp smell filled the air.
Echoes of laughter and music — ghosts from a richer, happier time — seemed to whisper from the corners.
They climbed a staircase that groaned under their weight.
Up to the third floor.
The doors were all smashed, hanging off their hinges like broken limbs.
At the end of the hallway, a single door stood intact.
Room 307.
The man waited there, next to an old keypad.
He gestured for Elian to come forward.
> "The code is inside you. Think."
Elian stared at the keypad.
Inside me?
He glanced at Sophie.
She nodded encouragingly, even though her face was pale with fear.
Elian closed his eyes.
Memories flooded him — snippets of conversations he had overheard growing up.
Words his mother had whispered.
A date.
A name.
A number.
He punched in 0507.
His birthday.
The keypad beeped.
The door creaked open.
---
Inside was a room untouched by time.
Polished wood floors.
Velvet curtains.
A roaring fireplace.
And in the center... a massive oil painting of a boy.
His face was kind, his smile soft.
But his eyes...
His eyes were Elian's.
Down to the smallest detail.
Sophie gasped.
The man in the wolf mask knelt before the painting.
> "Welcome home, Young Master."
> "The real war begins now."
---
On a table beneath the painting, there were three things:
A black envelope with a red wax seal.
A key made of solid platinum.
And a photograph.
The photograph showed a girl.
Long raven hair.
Cold violet eyes.
Skin pale as snow.
An aura of distant, untouchable beauty.
Written on the back, in looping handwriting:
> Your fiancée. Protect her at all costs.
If you fail... all will be lost.
---
Elian's head spun.
A fiancée?
Secrets hidden even from him?
A war?
He turned to demand answers — but the man in the wolf mask was already gone.
Vanished into the rotting shadows.
Leaving only the rain, the ghosts, and the impossible future that now lay at Elian's trembling feet.
---
Sophie clutched his arm.
"Elian," she whispered, voice cracking.
"What's happening to us?"
Elian swallowed the lump in his throat.
He didn't know the answer.
All he knew was this:
The life he thought he knew...
The boy he thought he was...
Had died tonight.
And something new — something terrifying — was being born.