Chapter 117

**AUSTIN**

Interrogating Caedmon was a task I didn't take lightly, but it was one that had to be done. With Adam staying close to Aria—where he belonged—I took it upon myself to lead the questioning with Fares by my side. We had Caedmon secured in the reinforced chamber beneath the council hall, a place warded to resist even the strongest vampire.

He looked up as we entered, eyes glowing dimly with restrained malice. Despite the iron-threaded steel bindings etched with rune magic, he still held himself like royalty—arrogant and aloof.

"Ready to talk?" I asked, keeping my tone calm. I'd found that anger gave them power. Calmness unsettled them more.

"You're wasting your time, Alpha," Caedmon drawled. "I’ve told you—I’ve done nothing you wouldn’t have done in my place."

Fares crossed his arms. "You spied, betrayed, and endangered every life in this community. Let’s not pretend you were a guest."

Caedmon smirked, but I caught the flicker of frustration behind his eyes. He was rattled. Good.

"Why us?" I asked, stepping closer. "Why infiltrate this community? You could’ve picked any number of packs to destabilize."

He leaned forward, lips curling. "Because this place is a blight. Werewolves, I understand. You've existed for millennia, part of the natural order. But hybrids? You're an abomination."

Fares bristled beside me, but I kept my focus on Caedmon.

"Explain," I said.

He chuckled darkly. "You're so eager to rewrite nature. What Raya did with Adam and the others—that wasn’t a miracle. It was an accident. A dangerous one."

I didn’t respond, waiting him out.

"You think you’re special, but you’re just another failed experiment," he continued. "There were others before your little miracle trio. Vampires tried to hybridize centuries ago—bitten werewolves who didn’t survive the change. Some exploded from within. Others turned rabid, monstrous. We had to put them down."

He smiled, proud of the memory.

"And Adam, Sasha, and Leila?" I asked. "They survived."

"Yes," he hissed. "And no one knows why. That’s what terrifies us. Not your strength—your unpredictability. You think you’ve won, but you haven’t even
understood the rules you’re breaking."

I felt the urge to mention Dimitri, the vampire who had turned against Caedmon’s kind and sacrificed himself to protect his family. But before I could speak, Caedmon’s eyes narrowed.

"Don’t waste breath telling me about that pet vampire, the one who died betraying us. You think that makes him noble? He was confused. Weak."

My fists clenched at my sides. Fares took a half-step forward, but I held up a hand. Not yet.

"You're afraid," I said simply. "Not of what we’ve become—but of what it means. That everything you’ve believed is crumbling."

Caedmon tilted his head, observing me like a hawk watches a mouse. "You’re becoming something monstrous. Like Adam. Like Aria."

The sound of her name on his lips nearly sent me over the edge.

"Careful," I warned.

He grinned, fangs just barely visible. "Oh, you don’t want to admit it, but you see it too. Feel it, don’t you? In your veins. The hunger. The power. You’ve already changed. Soon, you’ll lose yourself, just like they will."

I stared at him in silence. Part of me wanted to throw his words back in his face. But the other part—the colder, calculating side of me—knew this was exactly what he wanted: a reaction.

I stepped away, nodding to Fares.

"We’re done here for now."

Caedmon’s voice followed us as I opened the door. "You’ll see it, Austin. In the mirror. In the eyes of your lovers. You’re not a protector anymore. You’re a monster in waiting."

I slammed the door shut behind us.

Fares walked beside me in silence for a few strides before speaking. "He’s trying to plant doubt. Twist what you know into something ugly."

"I know," I muttered. But his words echoed louder than I wanted to admit.

Was that how he saw us? How the world would?

Aria, glowing with life and warmth—was she a monster now, just because she bore something new?

No. I refused that idea.

She was everything good in this world. And so were those children she carried.

Whatever Caedmon said—whatever his people believed—he was wrong. We weren’t rewriting nature. We were evolving it.

And we weren’t done yet.

I didn’t head anywhere else after leaving the holding chamber. My legs carried me instinctively back to the apartment. Every word Caedmon had spoken still rang in my head, bitter and sharp like shattered glass. I wanted to believe I was above it—that I could ignore it—but some part of it stuck like a splinter.

The moment I stepped inside, I heard Aria’s soft voice call out from the other room. "Austin?"

Adam was already by her side. They both looked up as I entered, their expressions hopeful, worried, and tired all at once.

"Any news?" Adam asked.

I shook my head slowly. “Nothing we didn’t expect.”

But the truth was, I couldn’t speak about it. Not yet. I needed to remind myself of what was real—of what mattered.

“I just need to hold her,” I said, already moving toward Aria.

She didn’t question it. She just opened her arms.

I sank down beside her, wrapped in the quiet safety of her warmth, and let the tension drain away. Let Caedmon rot in his cell with his paranoia and twisted views. Here, in this space between her heartbeat and mine, was the only truth I needed.