Chapter 3 The Second Mark

The club was called Velvet Veins. It catered to the city's elite, but even they only whispered about it. The entrance was through an unmarked steel door in a forgotten alley, guarded by a man with eyes too flat to be human.

Inside, red velvet walls pulsed with the rhythm of bass-heavy music. Crimson lighting cloaked the faces of patrons, all dressed like they had something to hide.

Darian walked through the crowd like a shadow, unseen yet undeniable. Heads turned. Whispers followed.

In the back, behind a silk curtain, a woman waited.

Tall, statuesque, draped in midnight blue. Her name was Lilith. Once, centuries ago, she had called herself Queen.

"You shouldn't have come here," she said, her voice as smooth as aged wine.

Darian poured himself a drink. "The Order is breaking its own rules."

She arched a brow. "And you care about rules now?"

He sipped. "A man was murdered in my penthouse. A mark was left."

Lilith froze. "The second mark?"

He nodded.

She turned, walking to a cabinet of old relics. From it, she retrieved a silver pendant shaped like an eye.

"It's happening again," she whispered. "The Blood Pact is unraveling."

Darian's jaw clenched. "I warned them. If they come for me-"