《His Wager in the Manor | Sylux x Reader | Love and Deepspace fanfiction》
Chapter One | Infiltrating the Manor
"Is this really the underground market?" You question, squinting through the tinted cab window. There''s a dignified-looking manor in the distance, its gothic architecture sitting proudly in view despite the pouring rain. It looks very above-ground to you, and nothing at all like a market. You nervously rub your fingers around the gold letter "M" around your neck¡ªthe necklace your grandma gave you that always seems to soothe your nerves.
"Beats me, lady," responds the cab driver, eyeing you through the rearview mirror. "I''ve heard of this place¡ªdriven a few... odd folks to this lot, even. Haven''t gone further than where I''m taking you now, though." He turns the steering wheel and rocks crunch as the cab slows to a stop. The manor is still far away, and he hasn''t even driven to the golden gate ahead. You flash him a look. "Are you sure you can''t get any closer? It''s raining, and I''m wearing a dr¡ª"
"I said this is as far as I go." He interrupts, rubbing his neck. Taking a sharp breath, you decide it''s not worth making a fuss about and pay him anyway. He leans towards you as you clutch the door handle.
"Watch yourself in there, lady. You don''t seem like one of them." He warns, his eyes heavy and serious. Your face nearly contorts in confusion, but you suppress it, clearing your throat and nodding instead.
You push down on the handle, plopping a heeled foot down, right into a shallow puddle. "Thanks a lot," you mutter under your breath before shutting the door. The driver gives you a nod of his head through the window before whirling the cab around and taking off. With a sigh, you shift your attention to the front of the manor. Gathering the length of your damp dress by the fistful, you make a mad dash towards the gate. You mentally reassure yourself that this would all be worth it after tonight. After all, you were breaking the Hunter''s Association protocol by attending this event in the first place, not to mention going completely under the radar at that. You knew what you needed, and you decided you''d get it¡ªtonight. What could possibly go wrong? You''ve already gone under the radar plenty of times before, and it almost always works out. Almost.
Splashing down the pathway, you hurl open the gate. It groans open, drawing the attention of a few figures in black and white at the front of the manor. One figure meets you halfway, stretching out an umbrella over you. He smells of too-strong cologne.
"Allow me to accompany you, ma''am. Apologies for the weather tonight."
"Don''t worry about it," you reply, taking his arm. He leads you up the dark, brick path, past neatly trimmed bushes in geometric shapes. You shiver at the abrupt change in temperature as a satisfying warmth permeates through the entrance doors.
"Enjoy the party, ma''am." The man says before scurrying off to defend the next guests from the ensuing rain.
You take a few steps inside, soaking in the grandeur of the manor. Twin staircases twist around either side of the entrance hall, framing a podium and another figure, this time in a black and white dress, standing behind it.
"Welcome to the manor, ma''am. Please present your invitation token." The girl holds out a silver tray expectantly.
"Ah yes- I should have that right here." You dig your fingers in your dress pocket, pretending to fumble around for whatever an invitation token is. You put on an air of urgency and pat down the other pockets on your person. "Oh dear, it seems I must have left it with my chauffeur. Would you kindly look up my name?"
You feel her eyes give you a once-over before she retreats to the monitor at the podium. "And what name are we looking for tonight, ma''am?"
"The initials should be under M.C. I''m terribly sorry for the fuss." Resisting the urge to bite your lip, you settle for shifting your weight instead. You become acutely aware of how heavy your dress feels due to the water it absorbed as your foot slides inside your wet heel. This has to work; you need to know where this organization obtains their protocores and, worse yet, if they interfere with them before selling them off.
"I''m sorry ma''am, I''m not seeing any name under the initials ''M.C.''- Is there another name you''d like to try?"This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
You give her a dramatic scoff. "Are you saying you don''t know who I am?" You tilt your chin up at her. If she gave you a moment, you''d be able to think of who you might be and roll with it. Potential names and occupations flash through your strategic mind as you stumble for a believable persona.
"That''s exactly what I''m saying, ma''am. I apologize, but this event is exclusive to only those who have received the official¡ª"
Your instincts scream at you to retreat, but retreating isn''t an option¡ªnot now, not when you''re this close to sneaking in right under their noses. You''ve played risky games before, but none with stakes this high.
"How dare you rejectme?"You huff, still piecing together who exactly "me" is. You attempt to take a dramatic step forward, but your foot becomes prey to the slickness of your heel, sending you backward. You gasp and brace yourself for a humiliating tumble, throwing your arms out.Thump. Your fall stops short, and your back presses into something hard and breathing. The aroma of cedar and patchouli fills your senses, though there is a dark note underneath it, reminiscent of burning embers after a fire. A cold hand clasps your shoulder.
"There you are, sweetie." Speaks a smooth, low voice that is far too close to your ear. You swivel your head around, eyes wide with surprise, first at the prompt and timely rescue and then at the utter audacity of him calling you sweetie. You glimpse a flash of his dark attire, pale skin and silver hair on his towering figure before returning your attention to the staff. It was hard to see the man''s appearance clearly, but she can''t suspect that you''ve never met this man before.
"Looks like I found my lostkitten." He asserts with a smirk. "She''s with me." His grip tightens on your shoulders, and you wince.
"You''re awfully quick to claim lost property," you mutter, your voice sharp to mask your pounding heart. His lips twitch into a slow grin, leaning closer.
"Only when it''s this valuable, sweetie."
The woman behind the podium gives a shaky and apologetic bow, color draining from her face.
"Oh! Y-Yes of course, my mistake, sir. Please, go ahead."
"Make sure this doesn''t happen again." He cocks an eyebrow at the staff member, and she bows profusely. You could have sworn you felt his chest rumble with a chuckle. The way he spoke, low and firm, gave you the sense that this stranger was used to people following his orders. Regaining your footing, he ushers you past the staff and through the entrance hall. Your mind races with what to say next. Should you thank him? What did he mean by calling you valuable? Have you met before? Or maybe¡ª
"Careful what you say next. All eyes are on you." He interrupts your thoughts, drawing your mind back to the surrounding onlookers. You note the hush that follows in his wake, whispers brushing the air like spider silk. Heads turn, figures freeze mid-conversation, and you could swear even the chandeliers flickered in acknowledgment of his presence. You force a smile as his icy grip tightens, leading you further down the dimly lit, decorated hall. You can''t shake the feeling that you''ve flown directly into the careful web he''s spun.
"Do you have a habit of sweeping up strangers from embarrassing situations?" You question, raising your chin and mustering up your confidence again¡ªyou still need to act like you belong here.
"Hm, what makes you so sure this is arescue?" His gaze flits down to meet yours, and your attention is drawn to his misty red eyes and sharp features. "You should know I need compensation for my efforts."
Your expression wrinkles with irritation. "Compensation? For what?" You retort. "I don''t exactly remember asking you for your assistance, you know. You''re the one who thought meddling was a good idea." You scoff, narrowing your brows at him.
"Don''t be delusional. You and I both know you don''t belong here,kitten. And what are you going to do if I also think exposing you is a good idea?"
Upon hearing his mocking tone, you plant your feet on the marble floor, swinging around to face the stranger. "Do you mean to tell me that you''re really threatening me after just meeting?" You sneer at him, but his expression seems uninterested, which vexes you even more. "I''ve heard enough; Iwasgoing to say thank you, but I think I''ll take my leave now, sir. The pleasure was truly all yours." Swiftly, you turn away, but he''s faster. He draws you back into him, and you brace your hands on his firm chest, the scent of cedar and patchouli filling your senses once again. The sensation of his warm breath against your ear makes your heart pound behind your ribs.
"Nowthat''snot a very good idea, kitten. I simply saw an opportunity and seized it. We''re practically business partners now."
"Let me go, you psycho¡ª" You interrupt, trying to unlatch yourself from his cage.
"Don''t act innocent with me," he says sharply. "You have a bargaining chip right in front of you, and I know you need it. Unless you''d prefer me to march you back to the front to fend for yourself." His grip loosens, and you stumble back. As much as you hate to admit it, he has a point. You came here for intel on the underground market, hidden in this manor, but he isn''t without his motives either. It''s clear he''s after something too¡ª it''s just a matter of what.Two can play at this game. After a beat, you clear your throat and neaten your damp dress before speaking.
"I see you enjoy making up rules for your own games. Fine, I''ll bite, as long as I benefit from whatever it is you''re playing at."
"That''s more like it, sweetie. I was starting to think I''d have to get you a leash if you insisted on running away."
"Well, it''s not my fault if you can''t keep up with me," you jeer. He peers down at you, an unsettling grin growing on his lips. Your jaw tightens. Swallowing hard, you decide to play your part.
"So, what is it you''re after, Mr...?"
"The people here refer to me as Master Sylus, but you can call me one or the other," he lets out a breathy chuckle. "And to whom do I have the pleasure?"
Is this guy serious?You shake your head. You don''t want to lose it in front of the manor''s apparent master right now.
"I''m afraid you didn''t offer me enough for that information, Sylus."
His eyes narrow as he opens his mouth to speak, but a figure in black and white approaches earnestly, interrupting him.
"Excuse me, Master Sylus, your presence is requested."
Sylus closes his eyes and sighs before waving off the messenger.
"Come, kitten. It''s time for the party to start."
Chapter Two | Wolfs Den
Sylus''s icy fingers wrap around your wrist as he leads you through the twisting hallways of the manor. Your footsteps echo on the black and white marble floor. It''s dim, but you take every moment to memorize your surroundings, noting a potential escape route.
"And exactly when did I permit you to handle me like this? Where are you taking me anyway?"
"To repay your debt." He responds with a flat tone. You arrive before an ornate elevator door adorned with intricate, spiraling black flowers. Sylus taps a button, and a bell rings through the hallway, sending a chill down your spine. The doors roll open, and Sylus presses his hand to the small of your back, ushering you inside. He''s a little too comfortable touching you. Does he do this with every woman he steals from his parties? You shuffle inside and continue your interrogation.
"Repay my debt by doing what, exactly?"
"So many questions," he mumbles, squeezing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He selects a button, and the elevator grumbles to life. Your stomach drops, along with the elevator. The weight of his gaze is heavy as he rakes his eyes over your figure. It''s as if he''s appraising every detail of you. For a moment, you forget to breathe. His presence is overwhelming; every word and movement is calculated to keep you off balance. Averting your gaze, you bite your lip.
Under the glow of the elevator light, your gold necklace sparkles, capturing Sylus''s attention. "Hm, what''s this?" He murmurs, bringing his fingers to the base of your neck. You wince at his sudden contact. The chain rustles as Sylus thumbs the "M" of your necklace and smiles. "Looks like I found a clue, Miss M." Snatching your necklace back, you glare at him.
"Vigalant are we?" He has a sarcastic lilt to his tone as he cocks his brow at you. "I like that. Why don''t you let me have a go at asking the questions this time?" The hum of the elevator fills the space as he closes in on you. Cold metal kisses the smooth skin of your back as he pushes you, bracing his arm above you. Red mist radiates from his right eye, and you can''t help but think your own are playing tricks on you. It disappears almost as soon as it appears, though. His tall figure envelops yours, and you hold your breath, focusing on the buttons of his black dress shirt. Milky muscles peek out from the dip of his collar, sending an unwanted flush to your cheeks. You allowed your gaze to linger, assessing if his physique indicated his combat skills¡ªa necessary survival tactic and nothing else. Right?
"I believe you have something I''m looking for, Miss M." He lifts your chin, lingering a moment too long in the space before his next words. "And you''re going to comply with me."Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
"That''s a bold assumption. What makes you so sure I''d agree so easily?" You challenge.
"Because you''re going to need me very soon." He releases you, sending an unfamiliar ripple through your body as if it wasn''t ready to say goodbye yet. The elevator lurches to a halt, the metallic groan resonating in your chest. The doors slide open, revealing a sprawling, dimly lit chamber humming with energy. Just how many floors did we go down?
"After you," he says smoothly, his smirk sharpening.
You glance at him, your gut twisting. Whatever lay ahead, you weren''t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter. You square your shoulders and step forward, your heels clicking defiantly against the floor. Hurried staff in black and white whirl past you, chattering orders at each other. Glowing monitors flash an alphabet of symbols as staff punch in numbers and dollar amounts. The laughter of what sounds like a sizable crowd follows a gentle ballad that melts in from the ceiling above. A staff member knocks your shoulder as they race by with a silver tray of mechanical parts.
Behind you, Sylus''s chuckle echoes like a warning, low and dangerous. "Hear that? Your fans are waiting."
Fans? You wanted to respond, to wipe that arrogant smirk off his face, but before you could find the words, a figure approaches. "Master Sylus," the man says, bowing slightly. "We''ve prepared all necessary materials and are ready to begin. Please allow me to escort your selected subject to the arena."
Sylus receives a black device from the man before returning his gaze back to you. "I assume you already know how to act as good bait," he states. His cool fingers swipe a lock of your hair back before securing the communication device around your ear. With wide eyes, you move instinctively and ball your fist against his chest.
"Bait? What are you talking about? I demand to know what''s happening!" You let out with a sharp tone. "Sylus, answer me. You have no right to¡ª"
Sylus slides his hand under your jaw, pressing his thumb into your cheek. "Do you think you''re in any position to ask the questions here?" His expression remains unreadable. "Did you naively believe you could enter the wolf''s den without attracting its attention?" Your breath catches at his words. "Enjoy the stage¡ªit''s all yours now, kitten." He turns and disappears into the crowd without another word. You stalk forward with shaky steps, but are jerked back by the man in black and white.
"This way, ma''am," he orders.
Before you have enough time to shake him off, more attendants usher you down the stairs and into the holding room that opens into the arena. Unlike the rest of the manor, this room hummed with the same tech back at HQ. The last of the staff shuffles out as the metallic door slides shut, leaving you alone. Does he really think I''d just stand here and play this crazy game with him? By that logic, he probably expects me to thank him¡ªhe''s totally psycho! Your fingers curl into fists, nails digging into your palms. If he wanted a fight, he was going to get one. The crackle of the speaker in the room sounds, and a woman''s voice chimes in.
"Welcome, honored guests, to tonight''s main event," she announces. "We''re upping the stakes tonight with a new player joining the game." The cheering of the crowd echoes beyond the room.
You grit your teeth, and the earpiece buzzes to life. "That would be you, sweetie."
"Sylus!" You frantically press on the device, pacing the room. "Do you really expect me to fight? Couldn''t you at least¡ª"
The speaker interrupts you. "You know the drill, every game begins with a bet. Our special guest has graciously agreed to assist with a special demonstration. Let''s see if she has the luck to back it up."
Your stomach knots as the monitor in the room flickers to life, showing a sea of unfamiliar faces leering in anticipation.
"Sylus!" you hiss, banging on the door. "Get me out of here¡ªnow! I didn''t sign up for this."
His laugh slithers through the connection. "Didn''t you?" His voice is slick and steely. "You wanted in, and now you''re part of the show¡ªjust not in the way you expected. Consider this... your initiation."
"Sylus, this is insane! I can''t¡ª"
"You can. And you will." The crowd''s thunderous cheers drown out the rest of his words. Then, with infuriating ease, he drawls, "Smile for the audience, kitten. They''re betting on you."
Chapter Three | A Pistol, or a Painful Death
"I hope you know I''ll survive this just to make you pay, Sylus," you hiss at him through the earpiece.
"That''s the spirit, kitten. I''d actually love to see you try." His voice is frustratingly calm. Scoffing, you scramble around the holding room, searching for some sharp object to bring into the match.
"I don''t even have a weapon, how the hell am I supposed to fight someone?"
"Not someone, sweetie¡ªsomething" Sylus cuts you off smoothly.
Before you can demand answers, the host''s voice sings through the speaker.
"Ladies and gentlemen, all bets have been placed. I wonder who''s going to win big tonight! So, without further ado, let''s introduce our players!"
The arena door opens, and you stagger back, clutching the gold initial on your necklace. The deafening cheer of the crowd has a mocking undertone, but you shake your head. Get it together, you can do this. Taking a steady breath, you straighten and stalk forward with a tight jaw. The sunken arena swallows your small form in a cage of steel. The audience, dressed in tuxedos and elegant gowns, gazes down at you expectantly, sipping wine from the safety of their elevated seats and tables circling the arena. Your heart hammers as the host''s voice swells again.
"Give it up for our honored guest! She will be defending her status against our latest weapon."
You swallowed hard. Weapon? The door on the opposing side of the arena ascends, smoke billowing out in grey heaps. Mechanical parts click as heavy steps shake the ground. Two red, hulking legs stride toward you as the humanoid mech makes its presence known, squaring its shoulders.
"Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on one of our finest prototypes¡ªmeet the Apex N-II! It''s not quite calibrated yet, but that''s part of the fun, isn''t it?" The host laughs, but droplets of sweat form over your brow. "And with that, let the game... begin!"
Instantly, the armored robot pushes off from across the battleground, the red orb on its face whirring toward you with unnerving speed. Desperately, you roll out of its trajectory, landing on all fours as its arm slams into the ground where you stood moments before. You watch as the dust rises from the impacted area. The robot jerks its hand out of the crushed ground, leaving a deep crater in its wake. It grinds its metallic head back in your direction, the red circle of its sensor tightening. Holy shi¡ªThe author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
"Nice dodge, kitten." Sylus purrs through the comm.
Springing to your feet, you make a run for it. "Gods, I hate you so much right now, Sylus¡ªwhat were you thinking, sticking me in a boxing match with that Apex-zilla?"
"That''s no way to talk to the man saving your life, now is it?"
The red orb tracks your movements once more, but you notice it''s staying in place for now. Recharging, you realize, allowing yourself a shaky exhale. Aside from the dress and heels, your body is conditioned to remain active for extended periods of time.
"Cut to the chase, psycho, how do you plan to get me out of this mess?" you snap, giving the delicate length of your dress a rough yank. The fabric rips. "Much better," you sigh as the scraps fall to the ground.
"Well, that''s a nice look on you." Sylus teases, and you roll your eyes. "Listen, I have a wager for you," he continues. "It''s a mutually beneficial arrangement. It looks like you could use a hand, particularly in the shape of a firearm. I happen to have a wide selection, if you''re interested."
Red metal sings through the air before pummeling the ground next to you, narrowly missing you again. Applause falls over the audience, and you grit your teeth.
"If I''m interested? Wow, what could possibly give you that idea?" You tease, assuming a defensive crouch as you ease around the field. You weave through piles of debris scattered around the arena, attempting to obscure the robot''s view. At this rate, you''re on the fast road to exhaustion. You''re also more than willing to bet you''ll run out of juice way before that shiny red killing machine does.
"Now now, kitten, you don''t want to bite the hand that feeds you. So, what''ll it be? A pistol, or a painful death?"
With an irritated groan, you raise your finger to the earpiece. "Oh, give me a break¡ªIt''s not like you''re giving me much of a choice, here."
"Don''t forget, I hold the cards right now. Does this mean you''d like to reject my gracious offer?"
Your pulse quickens and your throat tightens. The mech swivels its boxy head toward you, steady as it shifts into a different position than before. Mechanical whirring buzzes from its right arm as segments of its appendage slide into a new formation. Its vulnerable inner wiring peeks into view as you observe its transformation. Plates of smooth steel click together, reflecting light as if to send a warning.
"Is that thing turning into a laser cannon?!" You yell, blinking.
Sylus snickers. "Want some help, sweetie? Yes? No? Maybe so?"
"This is so unfair," you grumble.
"Tick-tock, kitten." Sylus growls.
A high-pitched tone fills the air, growing louder with each second as hot, concentrated sparks gather at the tip of the newly formed barrel. Your eyes widen, and you let out a gasp.
"Wait! I...I''ll do it, I accept your wager. Just hurry up and give me something, anything, now! This hunk of metal is about to blow my head off!"
Sylus''s villainous laugh spills through the communication device like bitter champagne. "See, I told you you''re going to need me. Very well, I look forward to our new mutual use of each other. Cheers, your delivery is on its way."
A small, dark silhouette dips into the arena, leaving a trail of black feathers in its wake. Its swift form flutters towards you, and a white pistol falls from its talons into your grasp. Caw, caw! It calls out as it retreats overhead.
"You can thank Mephisto for that. You know, he was excited to meet you," Sylus says, sounding far too pleased with himself.
"Thank who?" You question as you work the pistol, preparing for the robot frying that''s about to go down.
"The bird," he replies.
You pause for a moment before letting out a chuckle. "Of course, you have a pet crow," you jeer, sarcasm dripping from your tone.
"He doesn''t like being called a pet," he responds.
"Good, it looks like Mephisto and I have something in common then, kitten," you mutter, cocking the pistol. Sylus lets out a deep, rich laugh laced with amusement and something else. You can''t help but linger on the breathiness of his voice; this time, it sounds less like venom.
"I think I''m going to like you, Miss M," he hums. "Go on, kitten. Don''t disappoint me."
Chapter Four | Stiletto
"I think I''m going to like you," Sylus hums through the comm, his tone rich and unbothered. "Go on, kitten. Don''t disappoint me."
"Well, that makes one of us," you snap back, lips curving in a smirk. "And I don''t plan to."
The metallic screech rips through your conversation, yanking your focus back to the bot. Your fingers tighten on your new pearly pistol as you dart behind a heap of scrap metal. Heavy, thudding steps pivot in your direction. You peek out, catching the sinister red glow of the mech''s tracking orb. It spins, locking onto your cover. Your eyes widen as high-pitched beeps sound in quick succession.
"That''s definitely not good," you yell, hurling yourself back behind the pile of scrap. A crack of energy reverberates through the atmosphere as the cannon launches a pulse of molten light, slicing through the air. Smoke rises from the charred line of burnt residue, and you cough as the tang of scorched iron wafts through the air. Your barricade is singed, radiating heat from the aftermath of the shot. You flick your tongue out and swipe away the salty droplets that have gathered above your lip. You swallow hard, fingers shaking as you push off once again and face the menace of a weapon.
"Eat this!" You scream, shooting a flurry of fiery white beams at the robot''s joints. It staggers back, sparks spitting out from the vulnerable wiring connecting its limbs. Although your pistol may seem tiny compared to that monster''s massive cannon, your shots have the potential to be much more precise, with only a quarter of the charging time. You make a mental note to thank your captain for the clutch survival training later.
Sylus''s voice crackles back into your ear. "Clever girl. Looks like you found its weak spot."
"It was either this or politely asking it to stop," you snap, cocking your pistol and taking aim once again.
"Snippy, are we?" His tone is smug, like he''s enjoying the chaos too much for someone supposedly helping.
"Oh, I''m sorry. I didn''t realize I needed to say please and thank you when being thrown into a gladiator match with a death bot," you quip, rolling your eyes.
Sylus''s laughter crackles over the line, smooth and irritatingly casual. "Sounds like the kitten''s showing her claws."
A clicking sound drags your attention back to the fight. The mech''s orb blinks with irritation, sending out its laser tracker in your direction.
"Oh, no you don''t," you shout, barraging the bot with another attack. It drops to one knee, lowering its cannon arm to balance itself. Narrowing your eyes, you focus on the opening you created on its downed appendage.
"Time for a little innovation," you mutter, tugging off your high heel. Lurching toward the mech, you wield your stiletto like an off-brand Excalibur, shouting at the top of your lungs. The robot''s orb flits in frantic circles as you close in, panicking at your sudden movements. With careful aim, you cram the heel into the robot''s ball joint, wedging it perfectly into the gap. The sudden obstruction forces the joint to seize, momentarily immobilizing the bot as it struggles to stand up.
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"Take that!" you shout, pitching your remaining heel at its face like a baseball. It bounces off with a clink, and for a moment, you swear the machine looks offended. The robot whirrs in protest, but you''re overcome with a satisfying sense of triumph. Cheers erupt from the audience above.
Sylus''s voice cuts in. "Well, that was unexpected. A bit barbaric, but oddly effective. I''ll give you points for creativity, Miss M."
You grin. "I can autograph your forehead after this if you want."
"Cute, but the only thing you''ll be signing is our little contract, sweetie."
The grin fades. "Right, the one you forced me into," you grunt, pushing past the flicker of irritation in your chest. "Sylus, how exactly does my involvement in this match benefit you? I mean, if you can''t defeat a mere robot by yourself, just say that¡ªI could have helped you out of the kindness of my own heart."
Sylus sighs, but you can hear his sly smile behind his words. "You don''t even realize you started playing my game the moment you set foot in my Manor. Tell me, what is the purpose of the sweet scent emitted by a carnivorous plant?"
You wrinkle your nose, unsure of the relevance of his question. "To attract unsuspecting bugs?"
"Smart girl, and did you consider that there may be flies I need to weed out in the audience? I told you to act as good bait, didn''t I?"
You knit your brows together. "But what¡ª"
"Too many questions. Focus on stealing the show for me."
"Sylus, I¡ª"
"Now." He interrupts.
You scoff. I can''t believe him! How does he expect me to just comply when he speaks in these cryptic messages? I don''t get it¡ªI don''t get him. Shaking your head, you refocus on the robot''s immobilized state and pad your way behind it.
"Good game," you remark, aiming your pistol at the back of its head. With a sharp breath you squeeze the trigger. The gun kicks in your hand, releasing white-hot energy that strikes the exposed wiring running from its neck to its head. Sparks fly as the mech collapses in a heap, its red orb blinking out of view. Finally.
A wave of cheers and frantic applause surrounds you. Your chest heaves, adrenaline still coursing through your veins. The mech lay unmoving in a heap of sparking metal, sending a sigh of relief through your body. You let out a shaky laugh, somewhere between exhilaration and exhaustion.
The announcer''s voice booms through the arena. "Ladies and gentlemen, what an upset! Against all odds, we have our champion. To those who had the courage to stake their tokens on the newcomer, congratulations¡ªyour gamble paid off big time! Please head to the payout station to collect your winnings and revel in your victory."
You scoff with irritation as you wipe sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. "Sure, no prize for the girl who did all the work, huh? Congratulations indeed," you mutter under your breath, the taste of salt still on your lips. The scrap metal beneath your toes creaks as you shift your weight, and the heat from the battle still radiates in waves around you. Every inch of your body aches, and you can''t help but scour the audience for the silver-haired man. What did he mean by using me as bait? This match... there must be someone else watching. The thought of another threat lurking in this hellhole chases a shiver down your spine.
Sylus''s words chime in through the earpiece. "Well, well, you''ve certainly proved to be a head-turner."
You smirk, shifting your weight. "What, with you, or the crowd?"
His laughter slips past your ears like smooth silk. "What do you think, Miss M? Though, if you''re aiming for my approval, you''ll have to try harder than that."
You scowl, your cheeks warming. You place one hand on your hip and twirl your pistol with the other. "Ugh, well, now that I''ve played along with your little game, I demand you get me out of this cage, psycho¡ªI have a lot of unanswered questions, and you owe me some answers."
Sylus pauses before responding. "I see you''ve gotten comfortable mewling orders at me, kitten. It seems you''ve forgotten who''s really in charge here." He growls.
You open your mouth to yell something nasty at him, but before you can respond, the arena doors glide open.
Sylus sighs. "I''m waiting for you, Miss M. And please, try to behave."
Chapter Five | Villains Asset
Once inside the holding room, Sylus leans casually against the wall, his long legs neatly crossed. You march toward him, a whirlwind of frustration and purpose, ready to set the record straight.
"The wager is off," you snap at him, your voice sharp as you gesture emphatically. "Forcing someone into a deal where they have everything to lose and nothing to gain? That''s bad business, and you know it."
Sylus exhales slowly, a thin vein surfacing on his forehead. "Some might argue that''s excellent business," he mutters.
"You''re the one who dragged me in this mess to begin with," you accuse, clenching your fists.
He arches a brow at you. "Dragged you? Remind me¡ªwas I the one trespassing?"
You bite your lip, choosing to change the subject. "And what was with that cryptic stunt you pulled in the arena? Care to explain who''s lurking around here and why it matters that they saw me?"
"Cryptic? You make me sound like the villain, sweetie."
"If the shoe fits," you retort, giving him a pointed once-over.
Sylus sighs as he uncrosses his arms with a lazy motion, his gaze locking on yours. "You disappoint me, kitten. Throwing away your only chance of survival so easily? Shame."
Your eyes narrow. "Survival?" you repeat, "What exactly do you mean by that?"
A low chuckle escapes Sylus, his stance relaxed but his eyes keen, assessing your every movement. "You''ve painted a rather tempting target on yourself with that little performance in the arena. Congratulations, kitten. Now, with every step you take¡ªwhether it''s in or out of my manor¡ªthere''ll be no shortage of gangs waiting to claim what they think is my most valuable asset."
His voice drops to a whisper. "But don''t worry. I don''t plan to let that happen. You need me now, just like you needed me in the arena. Admit it¡ªyou''re hopeless without my protection."
Your breath hitches as his words sink in, and you instinctively rub your fingers around the gold initial resting on your necklace. "Are you telling me you knew this would happen? That you threw me into that fight knowing I''d be a target afterward?"
Sylus tilts his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up in amusement. "Smart girl. A shame you waste it on being difficult."
"You tricked me!"
"And you trespassed." He reminds you as he pushes off the wall, his tall frame towering over you. "We all have our faults. And if anything, you owe me." He speaks slowly, every syllable condescending.
You ball your fists at your sides, seething at the audacity of this wicked man. I need to play his game, it''s the only way to deal with his traps. You take a slow breath and lower your shoulders before speaking. "Well, I demand compensation for my role in your little game." You begin, turning around and pacing the room. "I have an obligation at the Hunter''s Association that I can''t just leave¡ª"
"Consider it taken care of." He interrupts, suddenly more interested in inspecting his cuticles. His face softens into a look of boredom.
You raise an eyebrow. "And my pay?"
Sylus''s gaze flicks back to you. "Tripled, if you prove yourself worthy of it." He pauses, a flicker of amusement curbing his sharp tone. "While you''re under my roof, you''ll find there''s very little you''ll have to want for. You only have to ask."
You break eye contact and blink, your face reddening. How can he say those things so effortlessly? It''s like he''s not even affected by anything I say. Damn psycho.
You straighten, your mind racing with possibilities. This is my chance, I''m still building a case to expose the illegal activity found in this terrible place. I need to be strategic if I want to take him down. You take in a deep breath and continue.
"I also want access to your network of connections, your most impressive weapons, and complete access to all facilities in the manor."
"Easily done." He says very matter-of-factly, circling you. His movement is predatory yet unhurried as if savoring every moment of your discomfort.
You falter, caught off guard by his lack of resistance. "...Well. Good, then." You stammer, suddenly unsure.
Sylus stops in front of you. "Miss M, I''m not unreasonable. You''ll find I''m quite generous when properly motivated. We wouldn''t want you needlessly kicking and screaming the whole time, now, would we?"
"Oh I can and I will, because the moment you try to pull something over me¡ª-."
Silencing your next words, Sylus closes the distance between you, bending to your level. He brushes away a stray lock of hair from your face with a casual ease that makes you question how many times he''s done it before. "As you can see, I am more than capable of providing you with what you want." His fingers linger on your face just long enough for the hairs on your neck to rise, the weight of his presence filling your senses. "So, are these arrangements to your satisfaction, sweetie?" The pet name rolled off his tongue as if it were a slick piece of bait suspended at the end of a hook.
Your chest tightens as a storm of angry butterflies war inside you. "If you want me to keep responding to you, I suggest you stop calling me that," you retort, though there is less edge in your tone than you hoped for. "And yes... they''ll do. For now."Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"I think you''ll come to respond to that name very soon, actually." Sylus replies with a chuckle, his demeanor suspicious. He straightens, then gestures towards a narrow door at the back of the room.
"Come," He says, stalking towards the door.
With a sigh, you reluctantly follow, unsure what traps lie ahead. He punches in a code on the keypad, which you naturally commit to memory, and the door slides open. The room beyond is a small infirmary, its counters lined with bandages and medical supplies. A medical bed rests in the center of the tight space.
"You don''t look like you''re in the best shape, kitten."
"No thanks to you, psycho," you snap.
Sylus sighs, grabbing a brown bottle of antiseptic from the counter. He gestures towards the medical bed. "Sit down."
"I''ll manage."
Sylus quirks an eyebrow at you. "Determined to test my patience, are we? I''m only offering to help you out, Miss M." He says, amusement flickering through his composed face. He places the bottle on the bed, alongside a metal tray containing bandages and cotton pads.
"Since I''ve gotten here, you''ve done nothing but order me around and call me things I''d prefer not to be called. If you were half a gentleman, you would know that''s no way to handle a lady." You hiss at him.
"Hmm. Well, that would require you first to be a lady." He teases, looking you up and down. "And I''m sure you''ll find that I have no problem handling you."
You suddenly become aware of the tattered dress clinging to your form, the oil and dirt caked onto your arms, and the ash coating your bare toes. A flush creeps up your neck and face. "Well! Excuse me for fighting for my life a few moments ago. Gods!" You let out a huff. "It doesn''t matter¡ªI''ve already made up my mind. I''m fully capable of doing this by myself- your help is not needed." You fume, lifting your chin.
"Fine." He responds, taking a step closer to you. A mischievous grin spreads across his lips as you glare at him, your arms crossed and your feet firmly planted on the ground¡ªuntil they aren''t. Before you can react, Sylus snakes his arms around your waist, and you''re hoisted unceremoniously over his shoulder. A surprise yelp escapes your lips, and you curse your lack of composure.
"What are you¡ªput me down!" you shout, pounding your fist against his back.
Sylus''s laughter rumbles underneath you. "I''m starting to like this little game you play with me." He says, his tone entirely too calm for comfort.
You draw in a sharp breath. Notes of spice and wood fill your senses as he effortlessly carries you to the medical bed. His grip on the back of your thigh is powerful yet secure, and you can''t help but notice how the muscles in his back tighten under your body. With control, he eases you onto the cushioned bed, his heavy silver necklaces clinking together as he moves. Your rear plops on the surface, and you blink a couple of times.
"See, that wasn''t so hard, was it?" He mocks as he begins inspecting your bruised legs.
Jolted, you take a moment to compose yourself. You quickly decide that glaring at him is the best response and flash him a menacing expression, though your burning cheeks hint at a different message.
"You''re totally the villain, by the way." You say dryly, your eyes narrowing. Sylus lowers himself to one knee, but even in this position, his height is not much different than yours.
"Am I now?" he murmurs, tilting his head. "Funny. I don''t remember villains offering deals quite as generous as mine." His eyes glint with a playful spark as he uncaps the antiseptic, pouring it onto the cotton pad.
The sharp tang of alcohol cuts through the air, momentarily guiding your thoughts elsewhere¡ªto the sterile hospital rooms at Akso Hospital and the exasperated lectures from Dr. Zayne about taking better care of yourself. Though you''ve known each other since childhood, Zayne has become quite protective of you lately¡ªespecially after your grandmother passed away. If he knew about the situation you were in now, you''d never hear the end of it. You can already imagine his reaction if he knew where you were. You flinch at the thought of his chastising: "What were you thinking?" Yet, the reminder of his protectiveness warms your chest.
Your attention is yanked back to Sylus as a burning sensation from the alcohol stings your legs.
"Ow!" You gasp, jerking away instinctively. "Could you not?"
Sylus cocks an eyebrow, showing more amusement than remorse. "Would you prefer I let an infection take over?" He threatens, squeezing your leg.
"You can''t fool me, villain. You even have blood-red eyes," you counter, pursing your lips.
"The better to see you with," he taunts through a toothy grin, plucking a bandage from the silver tray.
"They''re villain eyes. Next thing you''ll tell me is you''re misunderstood."
"Depends¡ªdo you misunderstand your own lack of gratitude?"
You scoff, choosing to ignore his remark. "Oh, and another thing¡ªyou smile when I insult you. Like some kind of masochist."
His laugh is a low rumble that somehow sets your nerves on fire. "Or maybe I just enjoy how flustered you get when you''re mad, kitten."
"That''s even worse." You shoot back.
"Well, let me ask you this: would the villain be this tender when treating your wounds?" He lets the question hang in the air as his hand slides down your calf, steady and deliberate, lifting your foot and resting it against his thigh.
You jerk back, your pulse quickening despite yourself.
"You flinch again, and I might lose my grip. It''d be a pity to leave scars on these pretty legs of yours," he scolds, his voice soft yet unyielding. His face relaxes as he focuses, his hands skillfully dressing the scratches with unexpected gentleness. The contrast between his sharp tongue and delicate touch leaves you unbalanced, unsure whether to pull away or...or what?
Your fingers twitch at your sides as you watch him work, the fleeting warmth of his touch an unwelcome comfort you can''t quite wrap your head around. "You don''t make any sense," you mutter under your breath.
Sylus nods without taking his eyes off his handiwork. "Just as a villain should be."
You hold back a laugh and settle for rolling your eyes. Sylus responds with a quick tap to your legs before rising to his full height.
"It''s time for you to retire," he announces, dusting off his pants. "I''ve had a room prepared for you¡ªyou''ll need your rest, as you have a big day to prepare for." He explains.
"Big day?" you repeat, sitting up straight. "What do you mean?" You give your tired limbs a good stretch before hopping off the table. Your feet throb in protest, and you wish you had some shoes right about now.
Sylus looks down at you, his villainous eyes crackling with mischief. His gaze smolders with dark intensity, sending a shiver down your spine. "You''ll need to be on your absolute best behavior, sweetie," he murmurs, his voice edged with a smitten lilt. "Playing the part of my fianc¨¦e isn''t for the faint of heart."
Chapter Six | Resonance
If you had your heels on, they''d be making the loudest, most aggressive clacks right about now as you stomp toward the elevator with Sylus. But you didn''t, and your toes are beginning to hate the cold tile floor of this manor.
"Are you out of your mind? Oh wait, I already know the answer to that question." You scrutinize looking him up and down.
The elevator dings, and the ornate black doors slide open, beckoning you to step inside its gullet.
"Is that any way to speak to your dear fianc¨¦ ?" Sylus teases, motioning you to step through first.
"Fake fianc¨¦e," you insert. You trudge inside the mirror-lined lift, pushing the day''s aches and pains to the back of your mind. There are more pressing matters to deal with right now.
Sylus steps inside after you, pressing a button that leads back up to the surface of the manor. The elevator hums softly as it begins its slow ascent. Sylus reclines against the wall, pushing up the cuffs of his sleeves. The trail of veins venturing up the back of his hands to his arms doesn''t go unnoticed by you.
"Well, I''m not playing along with this nonsense," you state. "Find someone else to be your pawn. Don''t you have plenty of staff members to choose from?"
Sylus sighs. "It''s not that simple," he shakes his head. "It needs to be believable. A man like me won''t just choose anyone, you know. I don''t know many other ladies who can take down a mech like you did."
You bite your lip, secretly appreciating his compliment. But he''ll never know that.
"You''ll also be my right hand when it comes to hosting a series of events I have planned. It is critical that you execute your role flawlessly if I am to draw my enemies out into the open¡ªwhere I can corner them."
"Well, I am used to playing out different roles. I''m often assigned cases in the Hunter''s Association that involve some degree of using disguises or fake identities."
Sylus focuses on his shiny cinnamon-colored Oxfords and chuckles, "Exactly, think of it as a mission you''d take on, without hesitation, from your precious Hunter''s Association." His upper lip curls slightly as he mentions your employer. "Though, after witnessing your poor attempt at sneaking in my manor, I''m not sure about those acting skills."This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
You bristle, heat rising to your cheeks. "I was just getting warmed up. You know, getting into character takes a minute."
"Of course." Sylus''s tone is mockingly indulgent. "Should I help you practice getting into character now, then?" He shifts towards you and extends his hand, reaching for yours. You blink as he takes your hand, lifting it to his grinning lips. His eyes sparkle with amusement.
His soft lips brush against your knuckles, sending a jolt through you, and a sudden flicker of yellow energy sparks at the contact. Sylus''s hand begins to glow as the wisps of your Evol escape you. Sylus freezes, his eyes widening. A wave of panic passes over you, and you gasp and jerk your hand away. The light vanishes, and his eyes dart to yours, narrowing.
"You..." Sylus starts, his voice is tight, his expression unreadable.
"I-I''m sorry," you mutter, taking a step back. "My Evol must have sparked when you touched my hand. That''s how my energy works..." You observe as Sylus''s shoulders tense. His eyes are unblinking, and the color in his face drains.
He remains frozen, his gaze piercing through you. "My Evol, what did you do to it just now?" His tone is short and demanding.
You swallow hard before speaking. "It''s my Resonance ability. It allows me to control the Evol of others when I touch them." You explain, stroking your fingers against the metal of your necklace.
Sylus''s lips part as if to say something, but nothing comes out. His fingers twitch at his sides, his composed demeanor slipping away. Before you can react, he strides forward, closing the distance in one swift motion. His fingers lace around yours, and with startling strength, he presses your hand above your head, trapping you between him and the wall.
"Sylus¡ª" you cry, but his cold glare silences you. His right eye glows a misty red, the color swirling like a storm. Give it to him. Let him have it, he deserves it. You shake your head, grunting. Whose thoughts are these? His expression is edged with a raw desperation you haven''t seen before, starkly contrasting his usual control.
Fear coils in your chest as you struggle underneath him. His breaths are shallow, and his chest rises and falls rapidly as if straining to contain something. His firm grip keeps you pinned, but no wisps of energy surface again. Silver strands of his hair fall over his eyes, and for a moment, you don''t recognize him.
"Let me go!" You yank your hand away, and he allows you to withdraw it, the glow in his eye fading. He lets out a long, trembling breath, dipping his head to rest on your shoulder. His skin is slick with sweat, and the heat of him radiates in front of you.
"Damn it," he mutters under his breath. He stays like this for a beat more before releasing you. He backs away, as if he has been turned away from something important. His hands are still trembling, and when he notices you watching, he quickly shoves them into his pockets. He straightens, though his appearance is unnaturally disheveled. His breathing slowly steadies.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" you demand, your heart still racing as you rub your hand.
No answer. He holds your gaze for a moment, cold and calculating once more, but his silence hints at something deeper.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open, signaling your escape from this mysterious man. Sylus turns his back towards you. "My staff will show you to your room," he says tersely, his voice sharp and clipped. Without waiting for your response, he strides out of the elevator and into the corridor beyond. You pad your way after him, determined to press him for more information. Looking down the hallway, he appears to have vanished, the only trace of him being the faint aroma of ash and smoky cedar.
Chapter Seven | Reputation
No matter how much you squint, there isn''t as much of a trace of Sylus''s form down the hallway.
"Well, don''t tell me he''s some sort of old vampire who disappears at the most inconvenient times," you mutter.
"Oh no, ma''am. Master Sylus is certainly no vampire, I can assure you." A woman''s voice sounds behind you.
Startled, you whip around to see a staff member in black and white, her hair braided neatly over her shoulder.
"This way, ma''am. I bet you''re exhausted, so let''s get you to your room," she says.
Following her around the expanse of the manor, you notice long, red curtains draping over tall windows from impossibly high ceilings. The walls are trimmed with wooden etchings of flowers, and what you could have sworn are dragons, but most likely gargoyles. The warm light from gold-leafed sconces reflects elegantly on the crystal chandeliers glimmering above your head.
"It''s beautiful," you whisper.
"Oh yes, Master Sylus has fine taste." She shares proudly. "He won''t have it any other way, and he spares no expense to keep all of this in top shape." Smiling, she guides you up a spiraling wooden staircase.
You trail your fingertips along the smooth mahogany railing that seems to go up into the heavens. Moonlight filters in from a colorful stained glass skylight smugly set at the top of the manor''s ceiling. You wonder how a viper like Sylus could have such an appreciation for the delicate details of this place. Finally arriving in front of a white wooden door, the woman clicks the lock open, and you step inside.
"I''ll prepare a nice hot bath for you, ma''am. Go ahead and get settled." She says, scurrying to the washroom.
"Well, it''s not like I have any bags or anything. I didn''t exactly expect to be staying at Psycho Manor tonight," you mumble, strolling around the decorated room. The pinks and plums of the drapery and bedding create a romantic atmosphere, and a lovely fireplace sits beneath a decorated white mantle with a vintage mirror perched on top.
"Not to worry, ma''am, Master Sylus has taken care of that. Please help yourself with the selection of clothes in your wardrobe," the woman calls out as the splashing of water sounds.
Spotting the wardrobe, you tilt your head and wrap your fingers around the gold knobs of the painted, wooden doors, pulling it open. A cascade of exquisite gowns greets you, their luxurious fabrics catching the light: satin, velvet, chiffon, and more. You run your hand over the intricate textures, pausing to raise an eyebrow at an overly lacy piece. All of them are in your exact size. Stunning, yes, but impossibly extravagant. Who does he think he is? You scoff under your breath, shutting the wardrobe with a firm push. What a show-off.
Wandering to the balcony, your palm meets the cold glass of the windowpane as your gaze falls on the sprawling manor gardens below. The soft rustling of the trees does little to calm the storm brewing in your chest. Your eyes flit to your hand, to the spot where Sylus''s lips had brushed against earlier. The memory sends your mind spiraling through the evening''s chaos. What is he playing at? Why did he seem so... desperate when my Evol sparked?
You exhale, tension coiling in your shoulders as realization dawns. You need answers¡ªbut relying on his version of the truth isn''t an option. If you''re going to unravel his motives, you''ll have to find your own way to uncover them.
"Would you mind telling me how long you''ve worked here?" You question the woman through the washroom door.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
"Certainly, ma''am, just about as long as Onychinus has inhabited this manor." She replies, the sound of water sloshing through the room.
You freeze. "Onychinus?" You repeat, eyes widening.
"Yes, this is the residence of Master Sylus, leader of Onychinus, ma''am." She replies.
You turn on your heel, marching towards the washroom. "You mean we''re inside Onychinus''s hideout?" Your voice grows sharp and panicked.
"That''s right, ma''am- I apologize for the wait, but your bath is ready now." The woman chimes, brushing past you and towards the door. "I''m afraid I must leave you for the night. Please rest well."
"Wait!" You cry, but the woman gives you a quick bow and takes her leave.
Your palms grow clammy and your heart thumps loudly. Onychinus carries a reputation dark enough on its own, known as the natural enemy of the Hunter''s Association. But its leader? Even darker. He''s whispered about as a legend of infamy. He''s painted as a man of cold-hearted cruelty, ruling his territory with a deadly grip. His list of crimes is the stuff of nightmares and the rumors speak of an old, battle-scarred warlord. Supposedly, he''s covered in tattoos, with a ruined eye hidden beneath a patch, every inch of him hardened by a life of violence.
But Sylus? He shatters every preconception. He''s younger than you imagined¡ªhis hair might be silver, but his chiseled features and milky skin say otherwise. His scent is an intoxicating blend of expensive cologne, a far cry from the gritty persona you expected. His movements are fluid, almost regal, more befitting a prince, though a strategic and conniving one, than a barbaric criminal overlord. But his attitude... that''s another story.
You stumble into the bathroom, peeling off your clothes in a daze. The hot water engulfs you as you sink into the tub, the comforting scents of lavender and sage filling the air. You scrub your skin raw, attempting to wash away not just the grime but also the lingering unease from the day. Still, the image of Sylus kneeling in front of you in the infirmary, tenderly applying bandages and sliding his hand softly down your leg lingers in your mind. You knit your brows and groan, feeling a throb in your head. None of it makes sense.
"Gods, and no wonder he talked about the Hunter''s Association with such disgust. I should have known." You grumble aloud, lathering your face with more force than necessary. You''ve been hunting down Onychinus since you were just a trainee, so when you think about it, this is a golden opportunity to make a case that could change everything for the Hunter''s Association. This is the whole reason you joined to begin with, to fight for a safer Linkon City, and you''ve always worn your Hunter''s uniform with pride.
Memories from grandma''s house well up, and you can still smell the hot pot she whipped up the day you were accepted into the organization. Your throat tightens, and your eyes sting. A bomb planted in the area where grandma lived had exploded while you were away, presumably the work of Onychinus. And just like that, you were alone again¡ªexcept for Zayne. He was always there when you needed him most, and your chest ached as you felt your growing need for his reassurance. I failed you, grandma. But I''m going to make it right. Pressing your lips in a line, you quickly rinse off and step out of the tub, wrapping a plush towel around your body. You find your phone buried in the pocket of your ruined dress, grateful it''s still in one piece after that bout with the metal piece of junk in the arena.
Switching it on, you''re surprised to see no new messages from your team, but more importantly, no missed calls from Zayne. You quickly thumb over to your messaging app, frantically typing out a message to him before hitting send. The chat bubble remains suspended, so you send it again, and then for good measure, you hit send a third time but to no avail. A red exclamation mark appears, indicating a loss of signal. You click your tongue and pad over to the balcony window, stretching your phone above your head. Still nothing. Dammit, that snake is probably jamming my signal. Does he think of everything?
Defeated, you toss your phone on the soft covers of the bed before tugging on some undergarments and silk pajamas you grabbed from the wardrobe. You pace around the room, pressing your fist over your mouth. If Sylus had anything to do with the bombing incident... you shiver. Regardless, you were dead set on taking the leader of Onychinus down, for good. Your attention catches at two familiar black heels placed on the floor at the edge of the bed. Tilting your head, you bend down to examine them. They''re shiny and clean, and most definitely yours. You part your lips, brows furrowing. Did Sylus...go back to the arena to get these for me? And when did he have time to put them here? You swivel your head, half expecting to see the silver-haired monster emerge from the shadows, but no one is there. You take a deep breath, then let it out slowly, steadily, though your chest is tight. You set them down, seeking the sweet reprieve of a soft mattress and a good night''s sleep.
Slipping into the cool sheets, you sink blissfully into the comfort of the bed. Images of Sylus¡ªno, the cruel leader of Onychinus¡ªnag at you. His composed demeanor and smug charisma linger like a toxin, daring you to try and undermine him. His presence is both composed and unsettling, seeming to challenge your resolve even now. But that''s a game you''ll play tomorrow. For now, exhaustion drags you under, pulling you into the restless embrace of sleep.
Chapter Eight | Curiosity and Kittens
Warm light stretches from the balcony window into your room, casting intricate patterns over your comforter. Outside, a sharp caw breaks the morning stillness¡ªmost likely Mephisto carrying out his master''s bidding. You blink away the remnants of sleep, taking in the extravagance of the room around you. It wasn''t a dream. With a sigh, you slide out of bed, quickly dressing for the day.
Standing before the tall dressing mirror by the door, you smooth your hands over your skirts and study your reflection. You sport your lucky heels today, in case any robots decide to cross your path. An onyx gown hugs your curves, its corset accented with bright red piping. A sheer layer of crimson chiffon flows over the skirt, a side slit offering your favorite touch of practicality. Dangling from your black velvet choker is a modest ruby, layered with your cherished gold necklace¡ªif Sylus had any qualms about it, he would have to pry it off your cold, dead body. You adjust your hair, pinned back with loose tendrils framing your face, and scoff at the unmistakable style of the ensemble. It is so very Sylus.
Turning on your heel, you set out, following the sound of chattering voices down the corridor. With quiet steps, you approach the staff hard at work cleaning out one of the rooms. You position yourself behind an adjacent wall while you concentrate on their words.
"He disappeared again last night, didn''t he?" Says one of the staff.
"He won''t last much longer if he keeps this up. But you know he won''t ask for help." The other one responds.
"Maybe he''s figured something out with the girl¡ª"
They stop suddenly, as if aware they shouldn''t speak about the topic, at least not here. Is Sylus suffering from something? And what has he figured out, much less, with ''the girl''? Do they mean...me?
Before you can sneak any closer, a voice interrupts your thoughts.
"Breakfast is this way, ma''am." The staff member from last night instructs with a smile. You straighten and greet her, cursing her timing. She guides you into the dining room, where the warm aroma of coffee wafts through the air, making your mouth salivate. You plop down on one of the smooth black chairs and appreciate the full spread of pain au chocolat, French toast, eggs Benedict, and yogurt.
"Thank you, I almost forgot how hungry I was." You exclaim, grabbing a heavy silver fork and knife and slicing through a layer of egg, bacon, and muffin on your plate. "By the way, where''s Sylus this morning?"
The woman lifts a French press full of piping hot coffee and gracefully pours it into a mug. "He''s resting now, ma''am."
"Resting? He seemed full of energy last night in the elevator¡ªmust have tired himself out acting like he did." You take a sip, savoring the rich notes of chocolate and brown sugar. "Would you be able to tell me where his room is located? I just want to get to know the layout of this place."
"Of course, ma''am, Master Sylus''s primary bedroom is on the opposite side of the manor on the floor above yours¡ª it has double doors, you can''t miss it." She explains. "Now, please do enjoy your stay. I''ll be off." She bows and takes her leave.
Perfect. You are most certainly going to use that information later. For now, you will take advantage of Sylus''s absence to gather incriminating evidence for the Hunter''s Association.
As you work through your breakfast, a rustling sound draws your attention. Black feathers whirl past you as Mephisto enters the room and perches on the table. In his beak, he holds a black card with a note.
"Mephisto, good morning." You greet the bird, reaching for the card in his beak addressed to you. "I assume you haven''t come to explain your master''s behavior." Opening the card, it reads:
Dearest fianc¨¦e,
As promised, attached is your all-access keycard to the manor. Last I checked, curiosity and kittens don''t pair well together, so please, don''t get carried away.
Yours,
Sylus
You shove the keycard in your dress pocket and clear your throat. "Mephisto, please tell your Master that I have no intention of listening to him. Not until I have more answers." He''s out of his mind with this fianc¨¦ business. With that, Mephisto plucks a berry from the table and flies away. You down the rest of your breakfast and prepare to depart on your investigation.
Taking the elevator down, you rub your palm as moments from last night run through your mind¡ªthe panic in Sylus''s typically calm voice, the desperation in his eyes, almost needy. You furrow your brow in thought, but why? What is it he needs from me? Sylus''s look of desperation was unsettling, it didn''t suit him. But, maybe that is why I can''t stop thinking about it. You recall his vise grip on your hand, his towering figure over yours, the beads of sweat trickling down his temple, and the way his head rested on your shoulder¡ªrealizing your thoughts are starting to linger on irrelevant details, you take in a sharp breath and shake your head.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Descending into the manor''s depths, a chill snakes up your spine as you brisk past the arena. I''d like to see Sylus try pulling one over on me again. The black-and-white tiled hallway stretches ahead, leading you to an imposing set of doors with ornate gold doorknobs. You swipe your master keycard, and a satisfying click signals your entry. Pushing the heavy doors open, you''re met with a lavish hall, its vaulted ceilings soaring above royal blue velvet couches and low tables. The air is heavy, as if the walls have absorbed years of whispered deals and shady promises.
Your footsteps echo as you approach the bar, its shelves lined with rare spirits¡ªwhiskey, wine, and exotic bottles whose labels you don''t recognize. Beyond the bar, a stage looms at the far end, framed by long red curtains. Probably where they flaunt stolen artifacts to the highest bidder, you muse, sliding your phone from your pocket to record the room''s layout. Carefully maneuvering around the platform, your eyes catch a door behind the curtains. What do we have here?
Another quick keycard swipe grants you access, and you step into a smaller backroom. It''s unassuming at first: a console, a few screens, and security monitors that offer an expansive view of the lounge. What''s a villain without his extra eyes? Ignoring a twinge of unease, you tap the digital console, working through its options until one grabs your attention: "Open Vault." A proud grin creeps across your face. That''s more like it.
With a beep, a hidden door slides open, revealing a brightly lit vault. Cautiously, you step through, heart pounding, as you tug your pistol out of your leg strap. Shelves packed with powerful protocores line the vault''s walls, illuminating the room with a colorful glow. You fumble for your phone and snap photos of the shimmering emerald and sapphire energy sources in their cages. A strange sparking resonates from a few cores¡ªsomething worth examining further. But, the moment you pull on the shelf door, a piercing alarm shatters your concentration.
"Shit! That''s definitely bad," you mutter, stumbling back.
You survey the room for a potential security system to disarm, but there''s no such device in sight. Dammit, is it back in the console room? You decide to run for it, but your efforts are interrupted by a blunt shove from behind. Your arms fly to your face, and you brace your fall against the shelves. The protocores rattle against the glass.
"Aargh! What the hell¡ª" You try to whip around, but your body is forced against the cool glass of the shelves as the alarm rings in your ears.
"I thought I warned you not to get carried away, kitten." A familiar voice speaks from behind you. A beep sounds, and the blaring noise comes to a halt. "I see you''ve embraced my taste in attire today, you wear it well. Pity it doesn''t extend to your behavior."
"Sylus¡ªLet go of me, now!" You yell as your cheek is pushed firmly against the glass. Cool fingers clamp around the back of your neck with ease.
Sylus clicks his tongue. "You''re awfully curious about my manor, dearest fianc¨¦e. I can''t decide if it''s cute or if I should be concerned." He pins your arm behind you, pressing his weight against your back.
"The only thing concerning here is your refusal to respect my personal space." You retort.
"Oh? Odd words coming from someone snooping around in mine." He quips, gliding his hand down the side of your corset, his breath tickling your ear.
"What are you¡ªI''m going to need you to back off of me if you value your life." You threaten.
He chuckles, his fingers deftly slipping around your hips and into the pocket of your dress¡ªwhere your phone is tucked away. Your eyes widen. Dammit. Sylus withdraws and steps back, his prize already in hand.
"Relax," he says, holding your phone with a smirk. His gaze quickly meets yours as you turn around to face him. "I wasn''t going to do anything too improper." His grin sharpens as you sneer at him. "Though, if you were hoping for something else, I hate to disappoint."
"Hardly," you snap, scowling.
Unbothered, Sylus turns his attention to your phone, the screen lighting up as he swipes. You seize the moment, lunging for it, but he sidesteps without breaking stride. He narrows his eyes on the screen before cocking an eyebrow at you.
"Now where were those troublesome photos I saw you take..." He pauses and makes a face. "Interesting wallpaper." He says lowly, flicking his gaze to meet yours.
A sudden blush spreads across your cheeks as you recall the selfie of you and Zayne that you set as your wallpaper. You remember your trip to the Linkon Zoo, where you dragged him to see the seals. Passing strangers mistook you and Zayne for a couple and offered to take your photo together. You gladly pulled Zayne into the frame, and he stood stoically next to you. Your grin was giddy and bright, and you teased Zayne for being too serious around such cute animals. The sunlight had caught his eyes just right, their subtle warmth only noticeable to you. He''d said something then, something you couldn''t remember now, but it''d made you feel safe¡ªgenuinely cared for¡ªand the feeling of it still lingers.
Your throat feels impossibly dry, and you scoff in disbelief, trying to push the memory aside, though your pulse betrays you.
Sylus''s voice cuts in, smooth and sharp. "Touching, really." He remarks sarcastically, his lips curling in disgust as he looks at the screen. "A bit... tacky for someone in your line of work, don''t you think?"
You clear your throat, your heart thudding against your ribs. "My photos are none of your business."
His gaze flickers over you, his expression shifting back into smug indifference.
"Of course not," he murmurs, shifting his weight to one leg and letting out a faint sneer. "Though I have to admit, I didn''t peg you for the sentimental type. How surprising."
Masking your embarrassment, you lift your chin, meeting his gaze head-on. "And I didn''t peg you for someone who cared about a meager phone screen. How surprising."
His grin sharpens as he studies your features. "Perhaps the photos you took of my personal space are very much my business, wouldn''t you agree?"
Your fingers toy with your necklace, the slight tremble betraying your composure. "That depends," you retort, narrowing your eyes despite the shake in your voice. "I have a feeling you''re the one doing the real taking, leader of Onychinus. Care to explain how you came into possession of those protocores?"
He tilts his head. "Busy playing detective, are we, Miss M? Or should I say, pretending to be a spy and making a spectacular mess of it?"
You bite your lip and ball your fists.
He holds the phone in front of your face, showing you the lock screen. "Password. Now."
You shoot him an unamused glare. "Sure, it starts with ''F'' and ends with ''U''." You spit at him.
He snorts, and his lips curve into a sly grin.
"Give it back, you asshole!" You push off your feet and lurch towards him again. This time, you anticipate his sidestep and quickly pivot, hurling a fist towards him. A loud smack sounds as Sylus''s fingers wrap around your wrist, stopping your fist mid-swing. You furrow your brows, seething with anger.
"Now, now, no need to fuss. Just cooperate, and this will go smoothly." He orders.
"You must think I''m stupid¡ªMy personal belongings are not up for grabs." You threaten with a sharp tone.
"A bit hypocritical, are we? But alright, have it your way." He says, releasing you.
You stagger back and watch as Sylus pockets your phone. Before you can give him a piece of your mind, a low snarl stops you in your tracks.
Chapter Nine | Black-red Mist
A scuffling noise emanates from the other side of the vault door. Your breath catches, and your eyes snap to Sylus, narrowing in suspicion. "Tell me that sound isn''t what I think it is."
Sylus sighs and folds his arms. "You mean the cry of a Wanderer? I''d assume a hunter of your caliber would recognize it."
The noise grows louder, sending a shiver down your spine. Of course, this situation just had to get worse.
"What''s a Wanderer doing down here, Sylus?" You scoff. "Don''t tell me you keep them locked up in some creepy secret dungeon."
He steps closer, his smug expression looming over you. His thick lashes cast shadows across his cheekbones, and you curse the way your gut twists in both anger and¡ªnope, just anger.
"Good guess," he murmurs, the corners of his lips tugging upward, "but no dungeon. Let''s call it... research. The important kind."
You take a step back, your shoulders stiffening. "Research? Are you serious? What possible business do you have ''researching'' Wanderers?"
Before he can answer, another guttural cry reverberates through the room. Your instincts take over as your hand hovers over the pistol strapped beneath your skirt and you crouch, lowering your center of gravity.
Sylus tilts his head in curiosity, as if intrigued. "Looks like we''ll have to table this conversation. Time for you to live up to your noble responsibilities, hunter."
You step back, but his fingers, strong and unrelenting, clasp around your arm, pulling you toward the vault door.
"Sylus, wait!" you hiss, twisting in his grip. He doesn''t break stride.
"Afraid I can''t oblige," he quips, opening the door. He glances down at you, satisfied, as if this is all some grand joke. "Good luck, dearest fianc¨¦e."
You yell as you''re pushed through the door and into the next room. Expecting a face full of cold tile, you prepare to brace your fall, but the impact never comes. Air shoots past your face, sending the tendrils of your hair flying back. Your breath seizes as your body plummets downward, the force of the fall freezing the breath in your lungs. Adrenaline courses through your veins as your limbs flail through the air. Your eyes widen, but the space is too dim and misty to make out. You manage to let out a desperate shriek as your heart thumps in an erratic rhythm behind your chest. Is this it? Is this really how I go? Your thoughts and screams abruptly cease as strong arms envelop you, knocking the remaining breath from your lungs. Your mouth opens, but no sound slips free.
"Oops, forgot to mention that part." Sylus teases, steadying himself on the ground.
His arms support your weight as he carries you, pulling you snugly against his chest. You want to squirm free, but your body is too limp to protest right now. After a pause, your cheeks regain their color and your throat eagerly draws in some much-needed oxygen.
"Wasn''t that fun?" He looks at you with a satisfied grin before lowering your legs to the ground.
"Fun?" you scoff "You''re a new brand of sick and twisted, aren''t you?" You murmur with gritted teeth as you regain your balance and reach for your pistol.
Sylus cocks an eyebrow at you, his expression leaning more towards amusement than offense. "Is that so? Dearest fianc¨¦e, where''s your sense of adventure? I gave you a taste of freedom and a guaranteed rescue all in one thrilling package." He slips his hands into his pockets, and his tone drops to a provocative murmur. "I admire your audacity to call me such things after trespassing on my territory. As far as I''m concerned, you''re in debt, and you will pay it back."
"And what if I''ve changed my mind?" You mumble, pointing your weapon in front of you.
You take soft steps past Sylus as you scan the area, noting the tall columns reaching into the ceiling and the shadows blanketing the rocky walls. Straining your eyes, you peer into the distance, but you''re met with a dim emptiness.
"This... isn''t the same room that was here before." Your stomach sinks. There are no more sounds from the Wanderer, just deafening silence. You glance back behind you, but Sylus isn''t there anymore.
"I''m getting real tired of you disappearing on me, you know!" You shout into the hazy void. "Gods, and what the hell is going on with this room?"
"Who said anything about disappearing? I''m looking forward to witnessing the talent of a hunter like yourself up close." Sylus''s voice resonates from the space around you, but you struggle to pinpoint exactly where.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!
"Disappearing? Like you did last night after acting like a total psycho in the elevator? If you expect me to blindly play along with your stupid orders under these conditions, you''re sorely mistaken." You threaten, your voice tinged with frustration.
"It''s a Pity. I offered you my protection as part of our agreement, but it sounds like you''re no longer interested in that," he teases.
A low growl rumbles in the blackness of the space, raising every hair on your body. The Wanderer¡ªand a big one from the sound of it. You bite your lip, frantically looking out into the void.
"I''m a hunter," you remind yourself, gripping your pistol tightly. "This is what you do. Stay calm." You inch forward with caution, weapon poised.
"A hunter who apparently doesn''t know the first thing about what she''s hunting." Sylus''s voice cuts in from behind, his sudden presence startling you. "You don''t mean to tell me you''ve never fought a high-level Wanderer, do you? You should know what kind of territory you''ve just entered into, sweetie." He places a hand over your shoulder.
You wince, pulling away from his touch and aiming your pistol at him. "Territory? Explain." You demand, though your fingers tremble.
Undeterred, he steps toward your weapon, his chest stopping mere inches away from the barrel. Not quite the reaction you were hoping for when pointing a firearm in his direction.
"Looks like I overestimated you, but then again, I''ve never been impressed with the work of the Hunter''s Association." His fingers curl around the barrel of your gun, but he doesn''t move. "You''ve set foot into the Wanderer''s activated protofield¡ªa powerful ability that, if you''re not careful, can keep you captured here until it''s had its fill."
Your eyes widen. "The Association never warned us about this," you mutter.
Sylus grips your pistol, tugging it flush against his chest. He leans in. "I bet they haven''t¡ªI''m sure you''ll come to find out there are many things your precious organization isn''t revealing."
You furrow your brow at Sylus''s accusatory tone. "How dare you¡ª"
Your insult is interrupted by the rapid thumping of claws hitting the floor.
"Looks like your Wanderer is done observing. Go ahead, kitten, figure this one out by yourself since you''re so eager to prove you''re a big girl who doesn''t need me." He murmurs. Black smoke envelopes him in spiraling wisps, and his form vanishes before your eyes.
Shocked, you stumble back, pulse racing. No time to ask about whatever the hell that was. Straightening, you brace your muscles and take off in a sprint away from the direction of the Wanderer. Its steps pound against the floor as it picks up speed. Your eyes sweep over the space, desperate for some form of cover, but there are no strongholds or barriers to leverage here¡ªyour usual go-to tactic for fighting monsters three times your size. Your palms sweat as you grapple with your evident vulnerability, and your brain races to piece together a potential route for survival.
Silver limbs flash before your eyes, and a long, spiked tail whips around in your direction. You lurch out of the way, tumbling to the ground, but can maneuver back onto your feet with practiced fluidity. You pick up speed again and pull the trigger of your pistol. Hot blasts of energy connect with the silver-skinned creature, and it lets out a shrill cry. Your chest vibrates with the force of its shriek, but you keep your momentum, firing away at its sinewy form. The creature slinks back into its crafted shadows until you lose sight of its form again. Beads of sweat roll down your forehead as you hear the creature scuffle about. You strain your eyes in the darkness as you track the sounds until you notice a light glowing brighter by the second.
"You''re not going to be of much use to me dead, so I suggest you come up with a plan B before that Wanderer launches that attack. Unless you somehow decided to rethink renouncing your part of our bargain? The call is yours, sweetie. But please, do make it quick."
"Gods, Sylus, this is just like the arena! Instead of trapping me in a corner, have you ever considered asking nicely for once?" The Wanderer roars and a beam flies past your face, making your ears ring. A swirl of black mist forms next to you, and Sylus emerges from it, startling you.
"Ask nicely? Is that what you''re into¡ªhaving me say please while on my knees? I find my methods a lot less boring." He pauses. "Actually, now that I say that out loud¡ª"
Another attack interrupts him as a projectile whizzes toward you. You wince, raising your arms over your head, but it stops short, rotating in place as if frozen in time. Wisps of black energy wrap around it like long, deadly fingers. You stagger backward, staring in disbelief at Sylus, who extends his arm toward the object.
"W-what...?" you stutter.
"My Evol." He answers.
He lets out a languid sigh as black-red mist curls from his fingertips and effortlessly suspends the object in midair. With a menacing expression, his fingers close into a fist. The projectile disintegrates into ashes, crushed by Sylus''s Evol, sending ember-like particles drifting through the air. Your eyes widen as Sylus approaches you. He takes your face in his hand, his strength impossible to ignore, and tilts your chin upward.
"I believe this is the part when you say thank you."
You scoff. "Alright, I''ll admit, your creepy shadow fingers are... impressive." You furrow your brows. "But it doesn''t make up for the fact that you''re still bullying me into agreeing to your demands, you insatiable psychopath."
Predictably, his grin only grows wider. "How nice of you," he purrs, lowering his lips to your ear. "But insatiable psychos like me have a habit of getting exactly what they want. And, as my fianc¨¦e, it''s your responsibility to satiate my desire."
"Excuse me? Just what are you suggesting?" You pull back, and a rush of warmth blooms over your cheeks.
Sylus narrows his eyes on yours. His thumb grazes over your mouth, and he parts his lips. "Duck" he whispers, causing your face to scrunch in confusion. Before you can question him, he pushes you down, sending both of you tumbling onto the floor as projectiles whistle through the air above you. Sylus takes the brunt of the impact, his back slamming into the ground as your face gets buried in his chest. He pulls you tightly into him, causing your breath to hitch. The silver creature lets out a harrowing screech and crawls towards you with unnerving speed.
You gasp, pushing yourself up from his chest. He looks back up at you through hooded eyes, his expression unreadable. Your pulse quickens as you begin to maneuver yourself off of him, but his hand quickly wraps around your wrist, bringing you back down.
"Are you blind? That wanderer is closing in on us!" You fume, unamused at his self-satisfied expression.
"You mean it''s closing in on you. If you want this to end well, my darling fianc¨¦e, I suggest you reconsider your words," he murmurs before vaporizing from underneath you in that troublesome mist of his.
You instantly fall to the floor with a loud smack. "Seriously?" You grimace, picking up your pistol and scrambling to your feet. You whip around to see the Wanderer closing in. I''m beginning to hate this little game he plays with me.