Lena's POV
"I can't believe I'm doing this," I muttered under my breath, clinging to the shadows like a second skin. The cold night air bit at my cheeks as I crouched behind the hedge, staring up at Damien Cross's sprawling estate.
The place looked like it had been ripped from the pages of some Gothic novel—tall, foreboding, with more windows than any one person could possibly need.
"You're out of your mind, Lena," I whispered to myself. But my brother's face flashed in my mind, the fear in his eyes from that photo. I gritted my teeth. If Damien wasn't going to give me answers willingly, I'd just have to take them.
The security system was impressive, but not impenetrable. Ethan had taught me a thing or two about bypassing cameras—one of the few skills he'd picked up during his rebellious phase. I slipped through a side gate and darted across the manicured lawn, my heart pounding in my chest.
The estate was quiet, too quiet. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Inside, the place was just as intimidating as Damien himself. Dark wood floors stretched out beneath towering ceilings, and the faint scent of leather and something else—something primal—hung in the air.
I crept down a hallway, careful to avoid the light spilling from under a few closed doors. Somewhere in this labyrinth, there were answers. I just had to find them before Damien found me.
A low growl stopped me dead in my tracks.
I froze, every muscle in my body tensing. The sound was faint, almost inaudible, but it sent a shiver down my spine. Slowly, I turned toward the source—a heavy oak door at the end of the hallway.
The door was locked, of course, but I wasn't about to let that stop me. Pulling a hairpin from my pocket, I knelt down and went to work on the lock.
"Come on," I muttered under my breath. The growl came again, louder this time, and my hands shook as I twisted the pin.
Finally, the lock clicked, and I pushed the door open just enough to peer inside.
The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of moonlight streaming through a small, barred window. At first, I couldn't see anything unusual—just a few pieces of furniture covered with dust sheets.
But then I heard it.
The growl.
It wasn't faint anymore. It was low and guttural, vibrating through the air like a warning.
My eyes adjusted to the dim light, and I saw the source.
A massive cage stood in the center of the room, its bars thick and reinforced with silver. Inside, something moved—something too large and too... wild to be human.
"What the—"
"You shouldn't be here."
The voice came from behind me, sharp and cold, and I spun around to find Damien standing in the doorway.
---
For a moment, we just stared at each other, the silence crackling with tension. His dark eyes burned with anger, but there was something else there, too—something I couldn't quite name.
"Explain yourself," he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
I swallowed hard, my mind racing for an excuse. "I—"
"You what?" He stepped closer, his presence filling the room. "Thought you'd break into my home? Thought you'd dig through my secrets like a common thief?"
"You lied to me," I shot back, my voice steadier than I felt. "You said you didn't know Ethan, but I found the photo. You and my brother—together."
His jaw tightened. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Then why don't you enlighten me?" I took a step toward him, my fear giving way to anger. "What's in the cage, Damien? What the hell is going on here?"
"That's none of your concern," he said, his tone cutting like a blade.
"The hell it isn't! My brother is missing, and you're involved. I don't know how yet, but I will."
He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, do you?"
"Then tell me!" I demanded, my voice rising. "If you're not responsible for Ethan's disappearance, then prove it. Tell me the truth!"
"The truth?" He stepped closer, his gaze locking onto mine. "The truth is dangerous, Lena. And once you know it, there's no going back."
"I'm not afraid of the truth," I said, though my heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst.
"You should be." His voice was almost a whisper now, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the cold mask he wore so well.
"Who sent you?" he asked, his tone sharp again.
I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"Who sent you?" he repeated, stepping closer until there was barely a foot of space between us. "Don't play dumb, Lena. You didn't come here on your own. Someone put you up to this."
"Nobody sent me," I said, confused and a little insulted. "I'm here because of Ethan. Because you're the only lead I have."
He studied me for a long moment, his gaze piercing. I could almost feel him dissecting me, peeling back my layers to see if I was telling the truth.
Finally, he let out a low sigh, running a hand through his dark hair. "You're relentless, I'll give you that."
"I'm not leaving without answers," I said, crossing my arms.
"And I'm not giving you any."
We stood there in a tense standoff, the growls from the cage behind me growing louder.
"What is that thing?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder.
"That's none of your business," he snapped.
"It is if it has anything to do with Ethan," I shot back.
His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought he might actually throw me out. But then he sighed again, shaking his head.
"You're in over your head, Lena," he said, his voice softer now. "You need to leave. Now."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Yes, you are."
Before I could argue, he grabbed my arm and started to pull me toward the door. But just as we reached the hallway, the growls behind us turned into a deafening roar.
I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat. The thing in the cage was thrashing now, its massive form slamming against the bars with enough force to make the floor tremble.
"What the hell is that?" I whispered, fear creeping into my voice.
"Something you were never supposed to see," Damien said, his tone grim.
He pulled me out of the room and slammed the door shut, locking it with a key he pulled from his pocket.
"What are you hiding?" I demanded, yanking my arm out of his grip.
"You don't want to know," he said, his voice heavy with something I couldn't quite place—regret, maybe, or guilt.
"Yes, I do!"
He turned to face me, his eyes blazing. "You think you can handle the truth, Lena? Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."
Before I could respond, he grabbed my shoulders, his grip firm but not painful.
"You're playing a dangerous game," he said, his voice low and intense. "And if you keep digging, it's not just your life you'll ruin. It's everyone's."
I opened my mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes stopped me cold.
And then he said something that sent a chill down my spine.
"They're watching you, Lena. And if you don't stop, they'll come for you next."