Revenge: A Path of Destruction

As Alex walked into his hotel suite.

The room, elegant as ever, remained dimly lit by ambient wall lights designed to mimic dawnlight, casting soft amber hues over polished floors and marble accents.

Nyxara lay sprawled across the wide bed, her sleek white and black-striped fur blending lazily with the luxurious ivory sheets. Her eyes were closed, ears twitching faintly with every sound he made as he stepped inside. But Alex knew better—she wasn't asleep.

As if on cue, her golden eyes opened slowly, glinting like molten gold in the filtered light. She turned her head slightly, watching him with a relaxed but attentive gaze.

"How was your jog?" she asked, voice low and drowsy, but laced with genuine curiosity.

Alex didn't respond immediately. Instead, he reached up, tugging the hem of his dark, sweat-dampened top over his head and letting it fall to the side in one fluid motion.

Beads of perspiration clung to his skin, glistening faintly along the defined lines of muscle and scar—a long, thin one that ran down his back, specifically his spinal cord, as the scar told a story, one Alex will forever remember.

Nyxara's gaze didn't shift. She merely yawned, baring her sharp white fangs briefly before settling her head back down on the pillow.

She'd seen Alex like this more times than she could count. To her, this was as normal as breathing.

He unfastened his track pants next, peeling them away without ceremony before wrapping a white towel around his waist and heading toward the sleek bathroom set into the far wall.

The light flicked on with a gentle pulse of mana as he approached.

"It was normal," he finally said, his voice calm and even. "Helped me clear my head."

He vanished through the bathroom door with those parting words, leaving behind a silence that settled lightly over the room.

Nyxara watched the door for a moment longer, her ears flattening slightly. Then, with a soft sigh, she closed her eyes again.

But unlike before, there was a faint furrow in her brow.

Because even though Alex had said it helped him clear his head…

She wasn't so sure he meant it.

----

Lauren and Liam had been residing at the guest estate for nearly a week, enveloped by a sense of unease that had settled in ever since their unexpected summons by the Wind Clan.

During this tumultuous period, Lauren had reached out to her father, a man whose authoritative presence she found both comforting and intimidating.

He had insisted that she contact him immediately upon learning of their predicament, his voice steeped in concern and urgency.

When she recounted the unsettling events involving Marc, she could hear the tension crackling over the line. Her father's reaction was nothing short of explosive; his voice rose in a fervent rage, each word bursting forth with disbelief and frustration.

He unleashed a tirade that spanned several minutes, his anger directed not just at the situation but also at Liam, as if blaming him for being ensnared in such a devious ploy.

The outburst was visceral, a father's protective instincts ignited by the thought of his daughter ensnared in a web of deceit.

After several tense moments, Lauren managed to navigate the conversation back to the pressing matter at hand.

With careful phrasing, she inquired about their next steps, hoping to glean some direction. Her father, though still simmering from the earlier confrontation, provided a strategic perspective.

He urged her to play along with the Wind Clan, emphasizing that while they would not pose any immediate physical threat, remaining vigilant was essential.

The weight of her father's words settled heavily on her shoulders, and she understood that navigating this treacherous situation would require a blend of caution and cunning.

----

A crisp breeze filtered through the wide, arched window of the guest building's upper floor, carrying with it the faint scent of windblossom petals from the outer courtyards.

The view outside was calm, graceful, with curved edges, patrolling knights, and wind-carved sculptures that lined the stone walkways.

But within a particular guest's room, tension hummed in the air like a drawn bowstring.

Lauren stood near the center of the room, arms crossed, her expression firm as her sharp eyes swept over those gathered.

The guest suite, though labeled as such, was more akin to a noble's private council hall. Smooth marble flooring, velvet-cushioned chairs, a long obsidian table, and intricate Wind Clan motifs carved faintly into the silver-accented walls made the space feel regal.

Yet no one present was at ease.

Around her were Liam and three Grandmasters—part of their escort and protection team provided by the association, her father, for both her and Liam's protection.

Their postures were alert, their expressions serious, each of them bearing the quiet look of warriors who knew they were behind enemy lines.

It had been nearly a week since they arrived, a week of perfect hospitality wrapped around a cage of veiled surveillance. The Wind Clan had been polite, even generous. But no one here was foolish enough to believe that kindness was without motive.

Lauren glanced once toward the corner of the room where a faint glimmer of mana faded—residual traces from an illusion dampener being activated.

Liam stood at her side, arms resting along the back of a chair, his expression unreadable. He hadn't spoken much over the last few days, not since their meeting with Marc.

And while he had been cooperative, she could feel the simmer beneath his calm.

Lauren turned to one of the Grandmasters, a woman with braided black hair and a steady gaze. "Is the room secure?"

A Grandmaster nodded once. "All surveillance has been disabled or misdirected. The artifacts they provided are suppressing magical echoes, sound vibrations, and kinetic signatures.

No scrying, no listening, no detection. We're sealed."

Lauren exhaled, a controlled breath that left no trace of tension. Then she stepped forward and rested her hand lightly on the edge of the table.

"Alright then," she said. Her voice was low, steady, and firm. "Let's begin."