Arthur stepped out of the elevator onto the fiftieth floor of the towering high-rise, the soft chime of the elevator doors punctuating the muted hum of the building. The hallway stretched out before him, a testament to understated luxury. Its walls were paneled with sleek, dark wood, polished to a mirror-like finish that reflected the warm glow of recessed lighting. The floor beneath his boots gleamed with ivory marble, veins of silver coursing through it like frozen rivers.

The faint hum of ambient lighting blended with the muffled sounds of the city below—honking horns, the occasional wail of a distant siren, and the low thrum of life that never ceased in the sprawling metropolis.

Darius’ penchant for luxury was unmistakable, yet beneath the polished veneer of his wealth lay a man haunted by his own decisions. It had been Darius’ influence, his charm, and his unwavering support during the rebellion that had swayed countless of their brethren to join their cause. His charisma and social capital had drawn hundreds to their side—many of whom had perished during the battle and after. It was likely this memory that drove Darius to seek influence in the human world through the building of wealth. It was an attempt, Arthur suspected, to rewrite the legacy of devastation he had once helped create, using his resources and considerable connections to do some good in the realm to which they were now relegated.

Out of all his siblings, Darius was Arthur’s favorite. It wasn’t just that Darius’ desire to do good in the world mirrored Arthur’s own; it was the shared understanding of what their rebellion had cost. Darius carried the weight of that loss nearly as deeply as he did and that strengthened their bond immensely.

Arthur adjusted his coat, the crisp night air still clinging to the fabric, and started down the hallway. His footsteps were muted against the marble, the silence so pronounced that he could hear the soft swish of his coat with every stride. The corridor was pristine, with no art or decor to distract the eye—just a straight, uninterrupted path to the familiar double doors at the end.

The doors themselves were imposing and elegant, crafted from rich, dark mahogany and adorned with minimalistic brushed gold handles. The faintest trace of a security camera was tucked into the corner of the ceiling above them, a silent observer that Arthur knew would already have registered his arrival. He paused for a moment, his reflection faintly visible in the polished wood, before raising his hand to knock.

He rapped twice, his knuckles sounding sharp against the wood. The door opened almost immediately, swinging inward with the smooth precision of expertly maintained hinges. Darius stood on the threshold, framed by the soft, golden glow spilling from within. His sharp, angular features and golden hair were illuminated by the light, his tailored dark blue suit impeccable as ever.

“Arthur,” Darius greeted warmly, his voice tinged with amusement. “punctual, as always. Come in.”

Arthur stepped over the threshold, immediately enveloped by the subtle warmth of the interior. Darius’s condo was every bit as grand as he remembered—modern, sleek, and meticulously curated. The vast open space stretched out before him, dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the glittering skyline of the city. Beyond the glass, the buildings sparkled like a sea of stars, their lights reflecting faintly off the dark hardwood floors.

The living room was arranged with the same care as the rest of the condo. A pair of low leather armchairs faced each other across a minimalist glass coffee table, which held a bottle of wine and two crystal glasses. Behind them, a stone fireplace embedded in the far wall cast a flickering glow, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise cool, modern decor.

Everything about the space spoke of wealth and refinement, from the abstract artwork adorning the walls to the intricate geometric patterns woven into the plush area rug beneath the chairs. Arthur couldn’t help but notice how quiet it was inside—eerily so, the faint hum of the city below reduced to near silence by the soundproofed glass.

“Still as extravagant as ever,” Arthur remarked, his voice carrying a faint edge of humor as he stepped further inside.

Darius closed the door behind him, his lips curling into a faint smile. “A poor man's imitation of the luxury we used to enjoy.” he replied smoothly. He turned back to face Arthur and gestured at one of the armchairs. “Please, sit.”

Arthur crossed the room, his steps muted on the plush geometric-patterned rug that softened the space. He took the chair on the right, sinking into the cool leather as he let out a long breath. His gaze drifted to the windows, where the city lights blinked like a constellation sprawled across the earth. Darius moved with deliberate grace, settling into the chair opposite Arthur. He reached for the wine bottle on the table, the deep crimson liquid catching the light as he poured into two crystal glasses. “Thank you for making the trip,” he said, extending one of the glasses to Arthur.

Arthur accepted the glass with a nod of thanks. “It was no trouble. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this invitation?”

“Well, perhaps I just missed your company.” Darius said with a mischievous smile.

Arthur took a sip of the wine. The flavor was rich and complex, though drier than he usually preferred. “Somehow I doubt that.” he said smiling back.

Darius leaned back, his sharp eyes studying Arthur as he spoke. “Do you recall the group of humans we discussed about a month ago? The ones who had a few… unusual run-ins with some of our kind?”

“ I do.” Arthur said slowly, wine to his lips. The dryness of it lingering on his tongue in a rather uncomfortable way. “What of them?”

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“I’ve been keeping an eye on them as we discussed,” Darius replied smoothly. “And I’ve uncovered some rather interesting things about their group.”

Arthur leaned back slightly, swirling the wine in his glass. Apprehension prickled at the edges of his thoughts. How much did he dare reveal to Darius about the current situation? “What have you uncovered?”

“Well, at first I thought they might be thralls. I even considered vampire hunters, but their behavior didn’t quite align with either. After some digging, it’s become clear they’re part of an organization that’s intimately familiar with our society,” Darius said, his tone pointed as though waiting for confirmation. When Arthur didn’t speak, Darius went on. “ They seem to know about our past, Arthur. I overheard a conversation about the rebellion between some members of the group.”

“Interesting,” Arthur said, taking another sip of wine.

“Interesting? Is that all you have to say?” Darius asked incredulously. “They know about the rebellion.” he repeated. “ How else could they know about that unless they’ve been given the information by one of our kind?”

“That is strange.” Guilt formed a knot in the pit of Arthur’s stomach. His brother deserved to know more.

Darius’ eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him as though searching for cracks. “That’s not the half of it,” he said, his voice lowering. “I had one of my men tail one of them into the Underground. I don’t know how, but the man was able to mask his scent and blend with our kind almost perfectly.” He let the statement hang in the air, a challenge unspoken. “Do you know of any group capable of that, Arthur?”

Arthur’s chest tightened, but he took another slow sip of wine, trying to appear unbothered. “Not offhand,” he lied, setting the glass down on the table. The warmth in the room felt stifling now, the air pressing against his skin in a way that made his collar feel too tight. Keeping the Watchers and the revelation of the artifact a secret must be weighing on him more than he realized.

Darius leaned back, a faint frown tugging at his lips. “I thought you might know more.”

Arthur studied his brother for a moment, weighing his next words carefully. “Is that all you’ve learned?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral.

Theo had pleaded for more time before Arthur brought what they’d discovered about the artifact and the Watchers to the council. Yet the more Darius revealed, the more Arthur felt that time was running out. The council deserved to know.

Perhaps, if Darius was close enough to the truth, Arthur might bring him into the fold. When the time came to decide what to do about the artifact and Elena, he would need a strong ally in the council and there would be no one he trusted more than Darius.

He took another sip of the wine to calm his nerves although it made the dryness in his mouth worse. He couldn’t believe how on edge he felt. If he were human, he’d probably be sweating by now.

“No,” Darius said, pausing as he swirled his wine. “I saw the shadow creature we spoke of nearly a month ago. And…” He hesitated, his sharp eyes watching Arthur’s reaction closely.

Arthur leaned in slightly, the glass cool in his hands. “And?”

“I saw one of these humans—or whatever they are—fight it off with what felt like… our Father’s power.”

Arthur froze mid-sip, his thoughts tangling. “That’s…” He struggled for words, but his head felt foggy all of a sudden, the sentence slipping away.

“It’s unbelievable,” Darius finished for him, his tone heavy with intrigue and suspicion. “So tell me, brother. Who are they? What do you know of them?”

Arthur hesitated, his vision feeling momentarily unfocused. Theo’s words echoing in his mind: We need more time. Don’t bring the council in yet. He hated keeping this secret, especially from Darius, but breaking Theo’s trust on this wasn’t something he wanted to do.

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about them,” Arthur said, lifting the wineglass to his lips again, the dryness of the wine clinging to his tongue like ash. He barely registered the weight of the glass as a sluggish haze began creeping over him. The room tilted slightly, and he set the glass down, his fingers trembling as unease prickled along the back of his neck. His brow furrowed, his thoughts scrambling to make sense of the sudden heaviness in his limbs.

He glanced at the untouched glass of wine in Darius’s hand, and the realization struck him with the force of a hammer blow. His gaze snapped to his brother, disbelief and betrayal colliding in his chest.

“You…” Arthur’s voice faltered, his head swimming. His vision wavered, but he could still make out the faint shadow of regret on Darius’s face.

“That’s interesting,” Darius interrupted smoothly, his tone a disarming contrast to the gravity of his words. “Because a few weeks ago, I had a fledgling follow one of these humans. Imagine my surprise when I learned they’ve been visiting your estate with some frequency.”

Arthur’s mouth opened to respond, but the dizziness was tightening its grip on him, his thoughts slipping through his fingers like sand. “Darius… you…” His voice was a faint rasp, his body refusing to cooperate as the world blurred at the edges.

“Poisoned you?” Darius supplied, his expression grim but resolute. “Don’t worry, brother—it’s not lethal. Just enough to keep you here while we have a much-needed conversation.”

Arthur’s chest tightened as he tried to push himself upright, his fingers gripping the armrests of the chair. “You don’t understand,” he managed, his voice slurred as panic clawed at him. Not for himself, but for Theo and Elena. “They’re not safe… Darius, listen to me—”

“Not safe?” Darius repeated, his voice hardening as he stood and stepped toward Arthur. “You’ve been meeting with a dangerous organization behind the council’s back, keeping secrets from me, from all of us. What end could justify this betrayal?”

Arthur’s vision blurred further, but he fought to stay conscious, his thoughts consumed with fear for the estate. “You’ve left them exposed…” His words slurred as the poison spread, his limbs feeling as though they were weighted with iron. “Damn it, Darius… you’re playing right into his hands.”

Darius leaned over him, plucking the glass from Arthur’s weakening grasp and setting it aside with deliberate care. “I didn’t want to believe it when she told me,” he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with sadness. “But the evidence speaks for itself. Lies and secrecy from the brother I once followed into battle, the brother I trusted above all others.”

Arthur blinked up at him, trying to focus. “He’s playing you…” he whispered, his voice barely audible as his vision darkened. “Lucian…”

Darius’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he watched as Arthur’s strength gave out completely, his body slumping back against the chair. The last thing Arthur saw before the darkness claimed him was the flicker of regret in Darius’s golden eyes.