Lawrence's expression darkened, his gaze scanning my torn clothes and the blood smeared on them. "You're not injured," he said, his voice tight.
I shook my head, still feeling the echoes of adrenaline. "He cut me... with Argent. But it didn't stick."
His eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening at my words. "That shouldn't be possible," he muttered, echoing the hunter's earlier disbelief. For a moment, the silence between us stretched thin, the weight of unspoken questions heavy in the air.
Finally, Lawrence motioned toward the chair by the table. "Sit. Now."
I hesitated, my body still tense and coiled like a spring, but the exhaustion hit me all at once as soon as I sat. My muscles ached, my mind reeled, and my senses were still frayed.
"This is only the beginning," Lawrence said, his voice sharp but calm, like a blade drawn but not yet swung. He crossed his arms, leaning against the table. "They'll keep coming, Kyon. And next time, you might not be so lucky."
The hunter's words rang in my head again: Even half-bloods don't heal that fast from Argent. I swallowed hard. "He underestimated me," I said quietly, my hands gripping the edges of the chair. "That's why I survived. I got lucky."
"That's the first thing you've said tonight that makes sense," Lawrence replied bluntly. "Luck isn't a strategy, Kyon. It's a death sentence. And if you don't learn to think three moves ahead, the next hunter will cut that luck right out of you."
The weight of his words pressed down on me, and I looked away, shame and frustration knotting in my chest. I wanted to argue, to push back against the sharp edge of his critique, but I couldn't. He was right.
"That hunter wasn't ordinary," I said, my voice low. "He was fast, precise. He knew what I was before I even had a chance to react."
"They will always know what you are," Lawrence said. "That's their job. It's yours to make sure they don't live long enough to use it against you."
I met his gaze, my own frustration bleeding through. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't feel it—every day? This... thing inside me, clawing to take control, and now hunters waiting for me around every corner?" My voice cracked, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "I don't even know what I'm training for anymore."
Lawrence's expression softened, though his posture remained rigid. He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "You're training to stay alive, Kyon. To control what's inside you. If you don't... you know what happens."
I nodded, my throat tight. I didn't need him to say it. I hadn't seen others like me—didn't even know if there were others like me—but I could imagine what it might look like: losing yourself piece by piece, the hunger hollowing you out until there was nothing left but a monster.
Lawrence stepped forward, resting his hands on the table as he leaned toward me. "You've made it this far because you're strong. But strength alone won't save you. You're relying too much on your instincts, letting them drive you in battle. That's why you hesitated tonight. You don't trust yourself—or your training."
I opened my mouth to argue but stopped. He wasn't wrong. Every time I tried to focus, to draw on what he'd taught me, the hunger was there, pulling me in a thousand directions at once. It wasn't just the hunters I was fighting—it was myself.
"You said my healing shouldn't be possible," I said, shifting the focus. "What's happening to me? Why am I... different?"
Lawrence hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly. He looked like he was weighing how much to tell me. "Your vampire side is stronger than we expected," he said finally. "Your regeneration, your senses—it's all connected. But there's a cost. The stronger you become, the harder it will be to keep the hunger in check."
I felt a chill crawl up my spine. "So what? The stronger I get, the closer I am to losing myself?"
"That's one way to look at it," Lawrence said, his voice heavy. "But it's not set in stone. That's why I've been pushing you so hard. If you learn control, if you master the Flux, you can stay ahead of it. But if you don't..." He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.
I clenched my fists, the memory of the hunter's knife biting into my arm still fresh in my mind. "I won't lose control," I said firmly, though the doubt lingered just beneath the surface.
"Good," Lawrence said, his gaze steady. "Because if you do, I'll be the one to stop you."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I didn't flinch. I knew he meant it. Lawrence had always been clear about the stakes, and there was no room for sentiment in this war we were fighting.
"What happens now?" I asked, my voice quieter now.
"We double down on your training," Lawrence said, straightening. "The rumors are already spreading. More hunters are coming, and they'll be better prepared. You're not just some half-blood to them, Kyon. You're a threat. And threats get eliminated."
I nodded, the weight of his words settling over me. "I'll be ready."
"You'd better be," Lawrence said, his tone carrying both warning and determination. "Because they won't stop until you're dead."
As he turned to leave, I stayed seated, the events of the night replaying in my mind. The hunter's cold, calculating eyes, the searing pain of the Argent blade, the unnatural speed with which my wounds healed—it all pointed to something bigger than myself, something I couldn't yet understand.
But one thing was clear: this wasn't just about survival anymore. It was about control. Control over the hunters, over my training, and most of all, over the hunger that threatened to consume me.
And I wasn't going to let it win.