"This can't be real… so demons really do walk among us?"
Colton turned to him immediately and objected,
"Demons stand above all. Remember that."
Henry flinched as if struck, quickly covering his mouth, his voice shaking,
"I didn't know! You're absolutely right."
Colton stepped closer and slowly raised his hand before Henry's face, his fingers extending with an unsettling fluidity.
Meanwhile, Kayden remained standing, watching with burning eyes, not missing a single detail.
"Finally…" Kayden muttered to himself, "I was wondering when those claws would show."
But what he didn't expect… happened.
In a moment he didn't even register, Colton had already grabbed Kayden's hand firmly.
His voice came out low, almost a whisper, "Allow me."
Kayden was caught off guard. He hadn't even noticed when Colton got close… or when he grabbed him.
"Wait!" he said quickly but it was already too late.
With his sharp, demonic claws, Colton sliced open the palm of Kayden's hand with eerie precision, like a surgeon performing a ritual of his own.
Kayden lifted his gaze to meet Colton's eyes… still, calm, devoid of any emotion.
Kayden didn't find the courage within himself to object. Instead, he pretended to understand what was happening, as if this had all been intended beforehand.
Then… Colton cut his own palm and placed it over Kayden's.
The difference in size was striking his hand completely engulfed Kayden's.
As if Kayden were a small child standing before a mysterious god… not a living being.
And yet… he didn't tremble.
He insisted on remaining steady, refusing to grant this creature even a moment of victory or a glimpse of submission.
As for Henry, a cold shiver ran down his spine, as though an icy hand had suddenly gripped his heart.
One feeling took hold of him, growing heavier with each passing second:
He wished he hadn't asked.
He wished he had stayed silent.
He wished he wasn't here.
"My lord… let it bear witness… with your blood."
Colton stepped back and stood before Henry, his eyes glimmering with a heavy calm that dripped with threat.
His voice came low, as if slipping between unseen fangs,
"You will never speak of what happened today… no one will ever know."
Henry trembled. He didn't hear it as a sentence—but as a command carved into his soul.
He glanced quickly at Kayden, who only gave a small nod. He understood the message.
"I won't speak… ever. No one will know… I promise."
His voice came out shaking, like a child standing before a dark court.
But Colton didn't seem convinced. He tilted his head slightly, a cold smile cutting across his lips,
"And what use is a promise to me?"
Henry's gaze dropped to the floor. His hand rose instinctively to his neck, the air feeling heavier than he could breathe. He tried to respond, but the words tangled in his throat.
"I… I don't know… what I should do."
He lifted his head to see Colton studying him with lethal focus, as if weighing an entire life in a single moment.
I hope he doesn't ask for something big… he muttered inwardly, his hand settling over his mouth as if afraid something might slip out.
For the first time in his life… he wished he could run.
He wished he could pray.
But Colton's hand rose again.
He grabbed Henry's palm and sliced it open in a precise straight line. Henry gasped from the pain, but the sound died in his chest.
Then Colton placed his own palm over his.
After that, he lifted his fingers slowly and traced a circle on Henry's forehead, before letting them slide down to rest over the hand covering his mouth.
Then his voice began to flow—like a ritual chant, steady and imposing:
"By my name… the great Colton Demian… I guide you toward salvation.
With a sharpened blade upon your promise—upon your truth and your words…
My words are neither truth… nor envy…
But fate… breaking apart… and turning to ash."
With each line, Henry felt as though his hand was burning from within—his blood boiling, his bones cracking, fire igniting without flame or smoke.
He tried to pull his hand away… but it wouldn't move.
I just want to pull back… just for a moment… I wish I hadn't asked… I wish I wasn't here…
Colton finished and withdrew his hand calmly, as if nothing had happened.
A small smile formed on his face—completely devoid of warmth.
"The ritual wasn't really necessary. You're my lord's brother—I could have found you within seconds if I wanted. But… some forces might compel you to speak even without your awareness. What I did… was for your sake. I'm kind enough to protect you from yourself… and from others."
Henry nodded slowly, his voice barely there,
"I… understand. Actually… that's within your rights… but people who praise themselves… are liars."
He looked up at the ceiling and sighed… maybe it wasn't so bad after all…
But when he looked back at his palm, his pupils widened.
"It's gone!" he shouted in shock—a mix of relief and confusion.
The wound had left no trace.
No blood. No scar. Nothing.
Colton gradually returned to his human form, then leaned in to tend to his lord's hand calmly, as if the ritual had been nothing more than a passing procedure.
Kayden spoke in a reassuring tone as he looked at Henry,
"Don't worry, Henry… Colton helped me. He's the same friend I introduced you to before. The only difference… is that now you know him a little better."
Henry let out a slow breath, then said quietly,
"Some things… should remain secrets, right?"
Colton lifted his eyes from Kayden's hand, which he was treating, and replied coldly,
"Ask yourself. You're the one who came and searched for me… annoying human."
He sat on the edge of the bed, a faint smile casting a shadow over his features, but when he spoke, his tone was calm… like an old teacher delivering a lesson:
"Do you know what happens to the curious?"
His eyes were fixed on Henry, as if piercing through his skin, searching for what lay hidden inside.
Henry didn't dare respond. He simply sat stiffly, watching him with restrained tension.
As for Kayden, leaning beside him with relaxed features, he smirked with subtle sarcasm and whispered, casting him a meaningful glance,
"We know. We met one today…"
He raised an eyebrow lightly, as if the matter didn't deserve further explanation.
Colton nodded in agreement, then continued in a soft tone, like someone recounting an old story carved into memory,
"True. But curiosity… kills its owner. That's why I won't help you satisfy it. Or perhaps I will… that depends on you."
Elsewhere…
Adele wasn't in a bad mood for once. Instead, she felt the need for something different—something light to break the weight of her days.
She decided to go out for a short shopping trip and buy a few gifts. It bothered her that she hadn't given Kayden anything to celebrate his recovery, as if that neglect were a small stain she didn't want to see reflected back at her.
She walked between shops, her eyes carefully examining the items with excessive scrutiny. Somehow, she ended up surrounded by enough purchases to refurnish an entire room.
From rare perfumes, to old books, to satin ribbons she didn't even know when she'd use.
Behind her, the servants followed in complete silence, carrying boxes and bags like her patient shadow.
On her way back, Adele suddenly stopped in front of a large church. She raised her gaze to its tall tower, then walked calmly toward the gate, where she made a generous donation without hesitation.
Father Chase greeted her with a familiar smile and asked gently,
"My lady… what is this donation for? You've been coming quite often lately."
He knew her more than he should, and there was a trace of curiosity in his voice, masked with kindness.
Adele replied without turning to him, her voice steady but carrying a faint tremor,
"This donation is for my brother's health."
A faint smile formed on her lips—but it didn't reach her eyes.
Father Chase placed his hand over his chest devoutly and said reassuringly,
"May it be in the hands of the Lord, my lady."
But as Adele left quietly, she couldn't stop herself from thinking:
Is money enough to buy peace… or are there doors that only open with blood?
She stepped out of the church, the wind moving the edges of her long black dress, but she paid it no mind. She walked with quick, confident steps, like someone refusing to break under the weight of her thoughts.
Suddenly, a feminine voice reached her—sarcastic, yet smooth like a blade wrapped in silk:
"Girls should move gracefully… not like someone about to invade a battlefield."
Adele stopped, then turned slowly—with lethal calm.
There stood a girl with thick blonde hair dancing with the wind, and deep blue eyes watching her with a faint, mischievous smile.
It was Arbella.
Adele didn't blink as she replied, her voice steady and cold,
"I cannot remain here… this place does not suit my refined standards. I might be tainted by the likes of you."
Arbella raised her hand in a casual greeting, a gentle smile hanging on her lips.
But Adele didn't respond. She looked her over fully, from head to toe.
Then she muttered in a low, sharp voice, like a golden needle piercing skin "I wish… I had worn my gloves today."
Adel barely brushed Arbella's hand, then immediately pulled her own away. From her small bag, she took out a silk handkerchief and slowly wiped her fingers, as if she were getting rid of something contaminated.
Arbella's smile froze for a moment, a spark of offense flashing in her blue eyes.
"I only came to warn you," she said in a tone edged with caution. "Kayden should keep his nose out of trouble."
Adel raised her slender eyebrow, replying in a low voice, "And why is that? I don't understand you. Aren't you the one causing my brother to get involved?"
Arbella let out a small sigh, as though trying to ease the tension.
"Because your brother attracts disasters like iron attracts a magnet. He always gets himself tangled in things."
Adel swept her gaze around briefly before returning it to her with sharp eyes.
"To what extent do you intend to interfere in matters that don't concern you?"
Arbella smiled sweetly too sweetly, almost artificial.
"It's just… a hobby. Believe me, I've gotten quite good at it."
Adel muttered sarcastically, her lips barely moving,
"A pathetic hobby. Try finding yourself a life."
She turned to leave, but Arbella spoke again, making her halt instantly:
"Perhaps your brother will return home as a corpse. I've warned him twice… there won't be a third."
In the next moment, Adel turned like a silent storm and slapped Arbella hard. The latter lost her balance and fell to the ground.
Arbella shouted angrily, wiping blood from her trembling hand,
"Are you a man?! Your hand is as heavy as stone!"
Adel shrugged indifferently, a faint smile flickering in her eyes.
"I live in a house full of men… it's hell. I learned to strike before I'm struck."
Then she suddenly stopped, her gaze sharpening toward the corner of the street.
"Call off your little bird. Hidden surveillance isn't so hidden anymore. I knew you were planning to attack me the moment I saw you here. I hope that slap is enough."
She gestured toward Arbella's face.
Arbella chuckled lightly as she stood up, calmly adjusting her dress.
"He's shy. Hates the spotlight. What you did was self-defense, but no one will like you if your hand is like that. No man would accept you."
Adel laughed as well.
"Arbella… be grateful I'm in a good mood today. If I weren't, you might not have a nose right now."
She then tossed the stained handkerchief onto the ground in front of her and said with disdain,
"Trash."
She walked away with steady steps, climbing into her carriage where the servants sat in heavy silence. As the carriage moved, a quiet, cold smile formed on her lips she had waited a long time for this moment, to crush Arbella's pride with her own hand.
Back at home, the servants had carefully arranged everything Adel had bought inside her spacious room.
She removed her long dress and changed into comfortable black trousers and a beige wool sweater, then looked at her reflection in the mirror. Smirking, she murmured,
"I live in a house full of men… really, isn't that awful?"
She tied her hair back lightly and headed upstairs. At Kayden's door, she knocked softly, and the moment it opened, she walked in without hesitation.
The scene before her was simple, yet oddly surprising Kayden and Henry were sitting on the floor, sharing food. Beside them sat a stranger, reserved in demeanor, yet joining them as if he belonged.
Adel raised one eyebrow slightly but asked no questions. She sat on a nearby chair and said briefly, "Sorry to interrupt… but something very important happened."
The three men exchanged quick glances. Then Kayden gestured toward the stranger.
"This is our friend… Colton."
He then turned to Adel, hesitating for a moment before adding,
"And this… is Adel. My older sister."
He almost said "my sister," but swallowed the word. He wasn't used to the idea of having one, and now she sat before him—a refined, sharp presence, as beautiful as their mother, yet with stricter features. Her long black hair, green eyes, and the small mole on her chin only made her more striking.
He felt proud of her, though he hid it behind an overly serious expression.
Colton's eyes never left her face. 'She's incredibly strong physically… yet she completely conceals her essence. If we fought on equal footing, who would win?'