"Forget them, Nic!" Mass yelled as he rushed toward a shattered window. I watched as he wrapped his jacket around his fist and cleared away the glass shards from the window frame so we could escape. My arm throbbed with pain, and my gaze followed the stream of blood trickling down my fingers until it pooled on the gray concrete below.

"Dominic!"

 I heard him, but I couldn't move. Everything had gone to hell. The place had been heavily guarded with tall walls topped with barbed wire and vampires wielding automatic weapons. The outside was child's play compared to what we faced inside. 

"It's Prince Levi's men!" Yi shouted, aiming her revolvers at the red-clad guys storming the place. 

"We should retreat, Yi!" Pei yelled as she followed her sister. "These aren't just petty criminals." 

"Never!" the oldest sister shouted. "We have our orders!" 

All around me, men and women fought against each other, bodies sprawled on the floor from both sides—but mostly our guys. Amidst the chaos, I spotted Max and snapped out of my daze. "Max!" I roared, "Find Œil and follow Masson!" 

His gaze darted quickly toward me, a nod, and then he was gone. But I stood there. I could feel the silver burning in my body—damn it, I needed to get the bullet out of my arm. 

"Loyson!" A couple of hands shoved me from behind, causing me to stagger. "Don't just stand there!" The male voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't focus. The whole world spun around me, slowly slipping from my consciousness. 

Images of blood and death faded away. I was back in bed with Magnus. Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window, and his hair shone like a golden halo around his face. He laughed softly and trailed his fingertips along my cheek. 

"Wake up, Dominic... you need to wake up, sweetheart..." he whispered gently, leaning in to kiss my lips. 

With a jolt, I opened my eyes and screamed out loud. The pain from my arm was unbearable. "Stay still, boss!" Œil pleaded, holding me down against the backseat of the car while his fingers dug into my muscles, trying to extract the silver that was poisoning me. 

"What the hell are you doing?" I whispered weakly. "Where are we?" 

"Max is driving you home, boss. You almost died," he replied tersely, pressing down on my arm. I screamed loudly, pressing my cold sweat-soaked body against the worn leather seat. "Stay still... I'm almost there," he pleaded before darkness enveloped me again. 

The car jolted, and I woke with a start. I immediately looked down at my bandaged arm; the bullet was out, I thought with relief, giving my friend a grateful smile. But the gratitude and joy of being on my way away from the factory quickly turned into gnawing anxiety. I tried to swallow the lump of dread building in my throat. Damn it, we lost. How many had died? I raised my hand and rubbed my forehead with my fingers before looking around the car. Max was fully focused on the road, and Alex sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window. 

"The triplets?" I asked, but no one replied. "Mass?" 

"I ordered a retreat," he responded quietly. 

"Good," I replied with relief. 

He shook his head and sank deeper into his seat. "They ignored me," he mumbled quietly, and I could see his knuckles whitening. "And now they're dead." 

I raised an eyebrow and glanced at Œil, who bit his lip and nodded briefly toward Masson. Fuck. My eyes widened as I stared at the blood-spattered boy in the front seat. "Mass...?" 

"They deserved it," he hissed. "They refused to obey me." 

"But...!" 

"Shut up, Nico! You would've died!... You would've fucking died!" 

I met his tear-filled eyes and nodded briefly. "It's okay; everything will be fine," I mumbled, closing my eyes. "I just need to rest." 

"Max," Œil whispered next to me. "You have to turn around; we need to go home." 

"Where the fuck do you think we're headed?" Mass muttered sourly. 

"Not your home, home to Les Mites," Max sighed. 

"Never!" Mass growled, gripping the steering wheel. "You're driving to the apartment!" 

"You don't understand a fucking thing, do you!?" Maximilian roared, swatting his hand away. "Loyson needs blood; he needs Valec's blood, or he'll die!" 

With a loud groan, Mass slumped down in his seat and sighed deeply. "Do what you have to do, but if he dies, I'll fucking kill you too, and it will be extremely painful." 

The warm blood filled my mouth, and my hands gripped his forearm with a cramping hold. 

"Welcome home," whispered the smooth voice in my ear, but I trembled with discomfort. This was not my home, not anymore. 

"Thank you, Valec," I replied coldly as I sat up. I immediately felt stronger. I was surprised that I hadn't knelt before him and begged for more, but I'd never been one for intoxicants. My weakness was my heart and the feelings I had for the few people inside it. 

 "So?" he began with a sly smile. "What do you have to report?" 

 I licked the last drop of blood from my lips and ran my hands through my hair with a sigh. "It's chaos out there," I sighed. 

 "I know," he muttered, fiddling with one of his many pieces of jewelry. "Why do you think I stay in the background?" 

 "You strike when there are only crumbs left of them." 

 He gave me a proud smile before handing me a damp towel. "You know me well, my son." 

 I nodded briefly and walked over to his desk to sit on the edge, wiping dirt and sweat from my face and neck. "We're going to have problems." 

 "More than usual?" 

 I nodded, "The triplets are dead." 

 He raised an eyebrow, "How did you manage that?" 

 I slowly peeled off my dirty shirt and tossed it on the floor before I began to unwrap the bandage from my arm. The wound was completely healed; there wasn't even a scar. "It wasn't me." 

 Valec took a few slow steps toward me and placed his hand over my throat, the long sharp nails pressing threateningly against my thin skin. But it was just a game; the fear I once felt for the man in front of me was gone. I had no obligations to him anymore. He was weak, and he knew it.  

"My new boss," I replied tersely, the words vibrating in the air as I met his icy gaze. 

 "The child?" he asked with disgust in his voice. 

 "He's stronger than most," I remarked while his ice-blue eyes stared directly into mine, and I met them with a calm composure. "If you touch me, he will avenge me." 

 "And why would I hurt you!?" he hissed. "You are my creation. Mine!" 

 I nodded briefly before I stood up. "I know, Valec, but it's not something I'm grateful for."

 "Without me, you would be dead!" 

 I nodded and walked toward the door. "I'm not coming back." 

 "Dominic!" he called after me, almost pleading. 

 "You should leave town, Valec, leave the country. There's no future here," I replied before I opened the door and left him behind. 

 "You'll regret it!" he roared after me, but his words did not touch me. Now he was just a shadow from my past, nothing more, and I felt better than I had imagined. 

I left Les Mites and joined my friends outside. The sight of them dampening my previous mood. 

 "Valec is out of the picture, Masson killed the triplets, and most of Du Bois men are massacred on a factory floor." I glanced at Œil, who was trembling as he recited all the facts with a shaky voice and concluded, "Nothing is as it used to be."

 "What happens now?" Max asked, pulling his jacket tighter around himself in the chilly night air.

 "Go home. Rest," I muttered. "Hide. I'll get in touch when I know more." 

 "And what about him?" Œil asked, nodding toward Masson, who was slumped on the ground with his head in his hands. 

 "Go home, Mass," I sighed, starting to move toward the square. 

 "Where are you going?!" he called after me with a worried voice. 

 "Home." 

The feeling of homesickness was almost unbearable now that I was so close to it. Damn, I missed him. The streets changed the further I walked; the gray, dark, and gloomy atmosphere from my neighborhood was replaced with a warmer light and a cozy glow from the windows of the surrounding brown wooden houses and red brick buildings. The shops were closing, and there were hardly any people out. Every now and then, I encountered a stray cat or gnome, but it didn't feel deserted; rather calm and pleasant in a way. When I glanced up at the flickering light from the street lamps, with their magical flames spreading their pleasant light over the cobblestones, I realized how much I liked this neighborhood. 

 With my hands deep in my pockets, I walked along the familiar streets but deliberately took a detour to ensure no one was following me. I didn't want any unexpected visitors at home in the cabin. I took a deep breath through my nose and enjoyed the scent of freshly baked bread. From the nearest house, I heard the kettle whistle that it was ready. Laughter echoed and the sounds of screaming children. Dogs barked a short distance away, and I could clearly hear the clattering from the sink inside the pub. A sorrow stabbed at my heart. The beings here lived a peaceful life, safe and happy to have a home, family, and friends. But I was not welcome here. For in their eyes, I was a monster, a devil to be feared. I glanced back toward the darkness but felt no need to turn around. 

I needed sunlight, the scent of honey, coffee, and white sheets around me. Now—before I went crazy. 

 Two streets and one intersection later, I finally saw the little cabin that appeared like a golden chanterelle among large gray boulders. My heart immediately began to pound in my chest as I peeked up at the bedroom window and saw the silhouette of the man inside. Two steps led up to the door and the round doorknob. My fingers brushed the handle and turned it. The door opened easily, without the slightest creak. I stepped into the familiar hallway with its open floor plan, my heart pounding. You could see straight into the kitchen from where I stood, and to the right was the small living room with the old couch pressed against the wall. A fire crackled in the middle of the room, and the tones of Magnus's atrociously bad country music played softly in the background. 

I stood frozen in the hallway; I was home. This is where I wanted to stay forever. I will refuse to leave this house, I thought, fighting back tears. 

Finally, I heard the creaking of the stairs, and soon I caught sight of the light blue jeans with holey knees becoming more and more visible. My heart stopped when his white wool sweater came into view. His curls. His bearded chin. The smile... and finally, those sky-blue eyes. He stopped on the second-to-last step, one hand on the railing and the other hanging loosely in his jeans pocket. 

"Hey." 

 "Hey," he replied with his big, warm smile and walked down the last two steps to me.

 When my face brushed against his shoulder and his arms enveloped my entire body, I could finally relax. With a deep sigh, I inhaled his scent and closed my eyes. 

"Do you want pizza? There's a half left." 

 I laughed and looked up, "Sure." 

 "Go sit under the blanket; you're shaking all over," he said, pushing me toward the fire as he walked to the kitchen. 

"Sorry for not calling back," I sighed, taking off my jacket and laying it on the armrest before wrapping myself in the red checkered blanket to lean back on the couch. 

"You have your reasons," he said with a shrug, placing the pizza box in front of me on the coffee table before sinking down beside me. "I trust you; you know that." 

"So much has happened," I began, but I didn't get to say more before he pressed his lips against mine. 

I melted in his arms, and my lips eagerly responded to his. "You can tell me tomorrow," he said when the kiss broke, drawing his thumb over my chin with a smile on his lips. "Tonight, I just want to enjoy having you home." 

"Sure," I grinned, "sounds good, but can you turn off that awful music?" 

 He raised an eyebrow and fixed his eyes on me with a challenging smile. "Say that again if you dare..." 

 "It's terrible," I teased with a broad smile that turned into hysterical laughter as his hands attacked my ticklish body. 

"You'll regret saying that," he growled lowly against my ear. 

 "Make me," I grinned, attacking his neck with my lips.