The undercity smelled like damp stone and old secrets. Water dripped from the ceiling in steady rhythms, the sound echoing through tunnels carved centuries ago when Virelia was still young. Kael had walked these passages before, but never with someone like Liora beside him.
She moved through the dark like she belonged there, each step sure and silent. Even without a torch, she seemed to see perfectly. Kael had to rely on the faint glow from the lantern in his hand, its light casting their shadows long and twisted on the tunnel walls.
"You walk like a thief," Kael said, his voice low.
Liora didn't look at him. "You walk like you're waiting to be stabbed."
He smirked. "Occupational hazard."
They came to a junction where three tunnels met. The map Kael carried was an old one, and half the ink had faded, but he knew this spot — it led toward the abandoned noble quarter. He pointed down the left-hand tunnel. "This way."
Liora tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You're sure?"
"Unless you've got a better idea," he said.
Her lips curved in a faint smile. "I usually do."
---
They walked in silence for a while, the sound of their footsteps the only thing breaking it. Kael caught himself glancing at her more than once — the way her gown shifted around her legs as she moved, the way the lamplight caught the edges of her cheekbones.
Dangerous, he reminded himself. She was dangerous in ways he couldn't even begin to measure.
But that didn't stop the pull.
---
They reached a heavy iron gate blocking the passage. Rust ate at its bars, but it was still locked. Kael set down the lantern and pulled a short blade from his belt.
"Let me," Liora said, stepping forward. She placed one gloved hand on the lock and twisted — not with brute force, but with a slow, deliberate pressure. There was a faint sound, like metal sighing, and the lock crumbled to dust in her hand.
Kael stared. "Remind me not to shake your hand too hard."
She glanced at him, amused. "Don't worry. You'd break before I would."
---
Beyond the gate, the tunnel widened into an old wine cellar. Rows of rotted barrels slumped against the walls, their contents long since seeped into the floor. The air was colder here, and Kael's breath fogged in front of him.
Liora's head tilted suddenly, her gaze snapping toward the far corner.
"What is it?" Kael asked, his hand going to his dagger.
She didn't answer. She moved toward the corner, her steps slower now. Kael followed, his pulse climbing.
In the shadows, a body lay slumped against the wall. Male, dressed in fine clothes now stained dark with dried blood. His face was pale, lips tinged blue.
Kael crouched, examining the wound — deep slashes across the chest, like Marev's. "Your Blood Prince?" he asked.
Liora's jaw tightened. "One of ours. His name was Corven."
"Friend?"
"Once." Her voice was flat, but her eyes betrayed something else — a flicker of grief, quickly buried.
---
They didn't linger. If the killer had been here recently, he could still be nearby. Kael led them back into the tunnels, but his mind was working. Corven's death meant the Blood Prince wasn't just hunting for territory.
He was sending a message.
---
When they emerged into the surface night, the moon was high over Virelia, painting the rooftops silver. They were in the noble quarter now, though "noble" was a loose term. Most of the mansions had fallen into disrepair decades ago, their owners bankrupt or dead.
Liora stopped in front of one such ruin — a grand, crumbling estate with ivy strangling its stone walls. "This was one of our safehouses," she said. "If Corven was killed in the tunnels, the Blood Prince knew about it."
Kael glanced around the empty street. "Means he's watching you."
Her gaze flicked to him. "Means he's watching us now."
---
Inside, the safehouse smelled of dust and old paper. Kael lit a lamp while Liora moved to the windows, pulling the curtains closed. She turned, studying him in the flickering light.
"You've seen him twice now," she said. "And you're still here."
"I'm not the running type," Kael replied.
She stepped closer, her voice soft. "No. You're the type who gets himself killed proving he's not afraid."
Kael met her gaze, feeling the tension pull tight between them. "And you're the type who keeps secrets until it's too late."
Her lips curved faintly. "Maybe."
The silence stretched. The air between them felt charged, like the moment before a storm. Kael was aware of how close she was — close enough that he could see the faint lines of veins beneath her pale skin, close enough to notice that her pupils had narrowed to sharp points in the lamplight.
Danger, he told himself again.
And yet…
---
The sound of shattering glass snapped them both around.
Kael drew his dagger as a dark shape darted through the broken window — fast, inhumanly fast. It hit the floor in a crouch, its eyes burning like embers.
The Blood Prince.
Kael lunged, steel flashing. The creature moved like smoke, sidestepping and swiping at him with claws that left deep grooves in the floorboards.
Liora was already moving, her gown swirling as she struck — not with fists, but with speed and precision, her hands clawed like talons. For the first time, Kael saw her without the mask of humanity, and it was terrifying.
The fight was a blur — Kael's blade cutting air, the Blood Prince's strikes coming too fast to block. Liora drove him back toward the window, her movements fueled by something primal.
The Prince hissed, a sound like steam on hot metal, then leapt back out into the night.
Liora stood at the window, chest rising and falling, her eyes still glowing faintly. Kael sheathed his dagger slowly.
"You could have told me you were planning to fight him tonight," he said.
"I wasn't," she replied, her voice steadier than he expected. "He found us."
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, and there was something in it Kael couldn't name. Not quite trust. Not quite suspicion. Something in between.
"Next time," she said quietly, "we'll be ready."