The rain outside Velvet Heights had turned into a merciless downpour, pounding the broken windows like fists.
Inside the forgotten room, Elian stared at the photograph in his hand.
The girl's eyes seemed to pierce right through him — as if she knew every secret he carried, every scar he tried to hide.
Sophie hovered near him, shivering, the firelight casting trembling shadows across her face.
"Elian," she whispered, "what if this is a trap?"
He didn't answer.
Because deep down, he knew this was no trap.
This was fate.
A cruel, inescapable fate.
---
Pocketing the photograph, the key, and the black envelope, Elian turned away from the portrait of his younger self.
The image burned into his mind — the boy he once was, now a stranger.
Velvet Heights seemed to groan as he left the room, like the very building mourned his departure.
In the distance, sirens wailed — growing louder, closer.
They didn't have much time.
---
Back in the Lykan, Sophie clutched the passenger door as Elian sped away from the crumbling estate.
Neither spoke until the city swallowed them again — endless lights and endless lies.
Finally, Sophie broke the silence.
"Are you going to find her?"
Elian's jaw tightened.
He stared straight ahead, voice low and cold.
"I don't have a choice."
---
Meanwhile, across town...
In a penthouse so high it pierced the clouds, a girl stood on a balcony, barefoot in the rain.
Her black hair clung to her pale skin.
Her violet eyes — cold, beautiful, tragic — stared out over the sleeping city.
A man in a sharp gray suit approached her from behind.
"Miss Celestine," he said with a bow. "He has been found."
The girl — Celestine — said nothing.
Instead, she tilted her head slightly, listening to the rain.
After a long moment, she spoke, voice soft and cruel at the same time.
> "Good. Let's see if the boy can survive."
The man hesitated, then added:
> "There's... another problem."
She turned, raising one perfect eyebrow.
The man bowed lower.
> "There's another girl. A classmate. She's too close to him."
For a moment, Celestine's face showed no emotion.
Then, ever so slightly, her lips curved into a smile.
> "Then she will have to disappear."
The man nodded and melted back into the shadows.
Celestine turned back to the city, her violet eyes glowing faintly under the stormy sky.
---
The next day, back at school...
Elian sat at the farthest desk by the window, the rain still drumming softly against the glass.
Students buzzed around him, laughing, shouting, flirting.
As if nothing had changed.
As if the world wasn't ending.
His classmates barely noticed him.
They never did.
Just the poor boy.
Just the nobody.
But behind his blank stare, a storm raged.
The black envelope burned a hole in his bag.
The key felt heavy in his pocket.
And somewhere, she was waiting.
The girl he was supposed to marry.
The girl he had never even met.
---
During lunch break, Elian sat alone as usual, picking at his tray of soggy noodles.
Across the cafeteria, the popular girls were holding court — laughing loudly, tossing their perfect hair.
Tara, Queen Bee of the Senior Class, flipped her platinum blonde hair and whispered to her friends while pointing at Elian.
They all laughed.
The boys didn't even spare him a glance.
To them, he didn't exist.
Except for moments like this — moments of mockery.
One of the boys, a hulking football player named Drake, sauntered over.
He slammed his hand down on Elian's table, sending his food flying.
The cafeteria roared with laughter.
"Hey, Elian!" Drake sneered. "You drop this garbage, or is it just like you to eat trash?"
Elian said nothing.
He stared at his reflection in the puddle of broth on the floor.
A ghost of a boy stared back.
Drake grinned, enjoying the silence.
He reached down and grabbed Elian by the collar, lifting him slightly out of his chair.
"You deaf, loser?"
Still, Elian stayed silent.
Drake shoved him hard, sending him sprawling to the floor.
The cafeteria howled with laughter.
No one helped.
No one ever helped.
---
Sophie, standing at the door with her lunch tray, watched it all with burning eyes.
Her hands shook with rage.
But she knew better than to interfere.
Not yet.
Not when the walls had ears.
Not when they were watching.
---
Elian picked himself up, dusted off his jacket, and walked out without a word.
The cafeteria doors slammed behind him.
But this time, he didn't feel hurt.
He didn't feel broken.
He felt cold.
Like the rain outside.
Like the girl with violet eyes.
---
That night, Elian sat on the rooftop of his crumbling apartment complex.
The black envelope lay open on his lap.
Inside was a letter written in crimson ink:
> Elian, heir to the Frost Dynasty, you have seven days to claim what is yours.
Seven days to survive.
Seven days to find her.
Or everything will burn.
At the bottom of the letter was a symbol:
A serpent coiled around a rose.
The mark of the Frost Family.
A name whispered in elite circles.
A dynasty that supposedly died out years ago...
Yet somehow, lived on through him.
---
Below, the city roared.
Above, the stars watched in silent judgment.
Elian clenched the letter in his fist.
Seven days.
Seven days to change his fate.
Or die forgotten.