The morning sun painted the sky with hues of orange and gold as Damian approached the grand gates of the Ferron family estate. The mansion loomed ahead, its bland, imposing structure reflecting the cold nature of the people who resided within. It was a stark contrast to the warmth and vibrance that once defined Ahicia.
The gates creaked open as Damian's entourage arrived, his sharp golden eyes scanning the estate with disdain. His strides were long and confident as he entered the mansion, his aura commanding respect and exuding authority. Behind him, his assistant, Arian Wolfsbane—a sharp-eyed, silver-haired shifter from Lysandra's clan—walked with equal poise, his presence both intimidating and refined.
At the grand front doors stood Grace Ferron, Ahicia's younger sister. Her dark hair was swept into a neat bun, and her crimson eyes mirrored Ahicia's, though lacking the warmth and depth. A knowing smirk curved her lips as if she had been expecting Damian's arrival.
"Welcome, Damian," Grace said smoothly, her voice dripping with faux politeness. "We've been expecting you."
Damian didn't slow his pace, his golden eyes narrowing. "Where is your father?"
Grace tilted her head, her smirk deepening. "Now, now, is that any way to greet me? After all, I am—"
"Save it," Damian snapped, his voice low and threatening. "I'm not here for pleasantries, Grace. Take me to him. Now."
Grace crossed her arms, her crimson eyes gleaming mischievously. "Oh, Damian. Always so serious. You should learn to relax a little. Perhaps you'd like to—"
"You're just a replacement for the original," Arian interrupted, his voice cold and cutting. His silver eyes locked onto Grace, unyielding and sharp. "Don't think for a second you can toy with him. Move aside before I make you."
Grace's smirk faltered for a moment, a flicker of unease crossing her face. She composed herself quickly, her gaze darting between Damian and Arian. With a soft huff, she stepped aside, gesturing for them to follow her.
"This way," she said curtly, her tone losing its earlier playfulness.
The group followed Grace through the sprawling halls of the Ferron mansion, the air heavy with tension. Grace led them to the study, where the head of the Ferron family sat waiting.
The room was dimly lit, the scent of old leather and smoke lingering in the air. Behind a massive oak desk sat Lucian Ferron, his expression unreadable as he studied Damian with a calculating gaze.
Damian didn't bother with pleasantries. His growl filled the room, his golden eyes blazing. "You know why I'm here, Lucian. Don't play games with me."
Lucian leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Games, Damian? I assure you, I'm doing no such thing."
"Then stop wasting time," Damian snarled, his fists clenched at his sides. "Ahicia is dying, and you know why. Tell me how to save her."
Lucian's expression remained calm, his smirk growing slightly. "Ah, my dear Ahicia. Always a fascinating subject." He steepled his fingers, his gaze unwavering. "I will give you the answers you seek… but only if you agree to my conditions."
Damian's growl deepened, his body trembling with barely restrained fury. He stepped forward, his claws extending slightly. "What conditions?"
Lucian's smirk widened, but before he could speak, Damian closed his eyes briefly. Ahicia's pale face flashed in his mind, her fragile smile a beacon in his storm of emotions. The thought of her gave him pause, forcing him to take a steadying breath.
When he opened his eyes, his golden gaze was no less intense, but his voice was calmer. "What are your conditions?" he asked, his tone sharp but measured.
Lucian leaned forward, a predatory grin spreading across his face. The room seemed to grow colder as he prepared to make his demands.