Arian hovered over the front yard, using his sleek, buzzing drones to arrange decorations and lights for the grand party Seraphis was throwing in honor of his father—a father he had never met before. He was meticulous with his work, eyes darting between the intricate details of each display. The drones obeyed his every command, adjusting the holograms and lighting around the yard to perfection. But as always, the kobolds under Seraphis’s command handled most of the manual labor. They practically worshiped her, seeing her as a deity, their devotion almost fanatic as they hurried around the estate, setting up the massive event.
Arian’s eyes drifted to the others. His sisters were already at the mansion, scattered across the sprawling grounds like spoiled royalty, indulging in their usual vices. They weren’t helping like him, though. Instead, they were sipping blood from some of the maids. Arian watched from a distance, distaste curling his lip. His sisters—Celesse, Selene, and Xyra—were pampered and cruel, often using their glamor to get whatever they desired.
Celesse, Mira’s daughter with icy blue eyes and stark white hair, was the worst of them. She treated the maids like playthings, using her charm to force them into humiliating tasks. Arian winced when he caught her blue eyes—cold and commanding—forcing one of the maids to carry her like an animal, her white hair gleaming in the dim light.
Selene, Veil’s daughter with white hair and red eyes, was even more sinister. She wielded her glamor like a weapon, bending people’s minds to adore her. Arian had seen the servants buy her anything she wanted, lavishing her with gifts as if under some unbreakable spell. Platinum chains dangled from her wrists, a subtle symbol of her power. Arian knew better—Selene was pure evil, hiding behind a mask of beauty.
And then there was Xyra. With her green eyes and white hair, she was Alyssa’s daughter and the only sibling Arian could somewhat tolerate. But even Xyra had a manipulative streak, constantly trying to twist Arian’s thoughts and emotions. He shook his head in frustration, realizing she had just attempted to sway him again. His head throbbed, the lingering pain reminding him of her subtle power over him. He knew she was just as bad as the others.
Yet, there was one thing about his sisters that baffled him. Despite their cruelty, their arrogance, and their manipulations, they were tough—hard as steel. Whenever Seraphis punished them for their misdeeds, they took the lashings without a single tear, never once apologizing. Seraphis claimed she respected them for it, only giving them two lashings. Arian, however, found it unsettling.
As he gazed at them, he felt an odd sense of alienation. He had dark skin and human ears, so different from his sisters’ pale beauty. His mother, Loren, had told him it was because of her curse, that her bloodline carried the mark of a skinwalker. She assured him that she loved him, no matter what, but Arian always felt out of place. He considered himself smarter, better looking, and in every way superior to his sisters. As the eldest son, he was going to greet his father today, not as a boy, but as a man.
Finishing the final adjustments to his hovercar—an advanced machine he had designed himself—Arian smirked. His mother had told him that his father had never ridden in one before. Unbelievable.
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Kaelen stood outside the high-rise apartment building, checking his phone as he waited for a Lyft to pick him up and the Nightwatchers. Today was the day. He had to confront everything—his past, his family, and his future. But first, he needed a car. After scanning the nearby dealerships, he settled on one that caught his eye.
The Aston Martin Valhalla. Sleek, futuristic, and powerful. Its matte-black exterior glistened under the streetlights as Kaelen ran his hand over the smooth surface. The car purred to life as he slid into the driver’s seat, the leather soft beneath his fingers. He grinned; this was his speed.
As he drove towards Ravenwood, Kaelen couldn’t help but take in the surroundings. The route was a winding one, filled with reminders of the city’s rich, shadowed history. The streets of Ravetham were lined with towering buildings, a mix of old Gothic architecture and ultra-modern designs. Ancient stone facades contrasted with glass and steel, creating a blend of eras that seemed to speak of hidden secrets.
Past the skyline, the road stretched into the wooded estates of the elite, Ravenwood’s mansions looming like giants over the tree-lined streets. Each house was larger and more extravagant than the last, but none compared to Seraphis’s.
Her mansion was a marvel—both in size and in sheer audacity. As Kaelen pulled up to the gates, they swung open without a sound, revealing a sprawling estate that seemed more like a fortress. The walls were tall, made of smooth, dark stone, and covered in magical runes that pulsed faintly in the dim light. The grounds stretched for miles, meticulously maintained gardens filled with exotic plants from across the planes. Kaelen noticed several rare species of magical flora, their glowing petals lighting the path to the massive house.
The mansion itself towered over the landscape, its black marble façade gleaming in the fading light. It had sharp angles, modern yet reminiscent of ancient fortresses. Massive windows gave a glimpse into luxurious rooms filled with art, crystal chandeliers, and plush furniture. The entrance hall alone could fit a small army, with a grand staircase that spiraled upwards, leading to the countless rooms and corridors that filled the estate.
As Kaelen and the Nightwatchers stepped out of the car, the enormity of the place hit him. Seraphis has risen up in the world.
He didn’t have much time to dwell on it, though. Loren was already walking towards him, four children in tow. As soon as Kaelen saw them, something clicked in his chest. He could feel it—a connection, something deep and primal. His gaze lingered on his son, Arian, and he knew instantly that the boy was his. The resemblance to Loren was unmistakable, though there was something else in him, something stronger.
Loren, ever-beautiful and unchanged by time, greeted him with a soft smile. Kaelen couldn’t help but feel amazed. Loren was supposed to be a skinwalker, a cursed being whose offspring were often twisted and monstrous. Yet, she remained as stunning as she had always been, no sign of age or malice in her features.
"Honey, I’m home," Kaelen said with a smirk, pulling her into an embrace before turning his gaze to the children.
He looked down at them, his voice soft yet commanding. "I am your father."
The girls squealed in delight, rushing towards him and wrapping their arms around him in a tight hug. Kaelen felt his heart swell with love for them, an emotion he hadn’t expected. But then, in the back of his mind, the nanite whispered: Host: Influence neutralized.
Kaelen winced. He realized what had just happened. His daughters had tried to charm him, using their glamor to manipulate his feelings. He felt both proud and a little saddened. He had been caught off guard—by his own children.