Maria.

I walked out of Damien’s room with a strange, lingering unease crawling beneath my skin. Paranoia clung to me like a shadow, refusing to loosen its grip no matter how hard I tried to shake it off.

The door clicked shut behind me, the sound echoing faintly down the empty hallway, and for a brief second, I hesitated, almost as if something unseen was watching, waiting.

The Quadruplets.

Just the thought of them made my jaw tighten. Their attitudes, their constant need to assert control, the way they spoke as though everyone else existed beneath them, it was all becoming too much. Annoying didn’t even begin to describe it anymore. It was suffocating.

And the worst part?

I was stuck here.

For now.

I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through my hair as I forced my feet to move. Each step felt heavier than it should have, my senses unusually alert, picking up on every little sound, the faint rustle of curtains from a distant window, the soft creak of the wooden floor beneath my weight, even the distant murmurs of pack members far away.

I didn’t like this feeling.

"What was all that stunt for?" I asked, my voice low but edged with irritation as I strolled down the hall, my pace steady but purposeful.

There was a brief pause before Vernia’s voice slipped into my mind through the link, smooth yet laced with the same annoyance I felt.

"He probably still thinks we are scared," she echoed, her tone carrying a hint of mockery. "They are a very annoying set of people."

A faint scoff escaped me, my lips curving slightly, though there was no real humor behind it.

"Yes, Vernia... I agree with you."

If anything, that was an understatement.

I inhaled deeply, trying to steady myself, but the air felt heavier than usual. My steps unconsciously quickened as I moved further down the hall, eager to put as much distance as possible between myself and that room... and everything in it. My body ached with exhaustion now that the tension was beginning to settle, and all I wanted was to get back to my room.

To Noah.

The thought of him waiting for me brought a small sense of relief, a fragile thread of comfort in the middle of all this chaos. I needed that, needed something normal, something that wasn’t filled with mind games and silent power struggles.

I let out another breath, longer this time, my pace picking up just a little more as fatigue settled deeper into my bones.

"Damsel, why are you in such a hurry?"

The voice came from behind me, sudden and unexpected.

Vincent.

My steps faltered instantly.

I stopped so abruptly that the silence around me seemed to thicken, my body going still as his words sank in.

Damsel?

My brows furrowed slightly, confusion flickering across my face as I slowly turned around to face him. The word echoed in my mind, foreign and misplaced, especially coming from him.

And why the sudden change?

Something about it didn’t sit right with me.

"Vincent, where exactly have you been?" I asked instead, deliberately ignoring the way he had addressed me.

My voice was calm, but there was an underlying sharpness to it, a quiet demand for answers. Because this, him appearing out of nowhere, wasn’t normal.

Earlier, I had asked around, casually at first, then with growing concern. No one had seen him. No one had heard from him. It was as if he had completely disappeared, like he had been swallowed by the very air within the pack grounds.

Gone without a trace.

And now...

Here he was.

Standing behind me as though nothing had happened.

My gaze lingered on him, searching, questioning, trying to piece together what didn’t add up.

"About that... I—I..." he trailed off, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, his fingers lingering there a second longer than necessary as if hoping the gesture would somehow buy him time.

I narrowed my eyes at him, my patience already wearing thin.

"What now?" I asked, my tone sharp, edged with irritation as I folded my arms across my chest. When he still didn’t continue, I let out a small scoff. "Cat got your tongue?" I added, my gaze fixed on him, unrelenting.

"No!" he blurted out suddenly, a little too quickly, like someone caught off guard.

Before I could press further, he moved, bringing something out from behind his back with a faint flourish. "I went to get you this!"

My brows drew together slightly, curiosity mixing with suspicion as my eyes dropped to the object in his hands.

A box.

He held it carefully, almost too carefully, like it was something fragile, something important. Then, slowly, he opened it just enough for me to see what was inside.

The moment the lid lifted, a soft glint of gold caught the light.

A necklace.

My breath hitched ever so slightly as my gaze locked onto it. Even from where I stood, I could tell it wasn’t just any ordinary piece. The gold shimmered richly, polished to perfection, and the stones embedded in it reflected the light in tiny, dazzling sparks. Every detail, from the neat, luxurious packaging to the precision of the design, screamed one thing.

Expensive.

Very expensive.

I took an unconscious step closer, my eyes scanning it more carefully now, noticing the fine craftsmanship, the delicate arrangement of each shining stone, the way everything about it seemed... out of place here.

Out of place for us.

Because as rogues, we weren’t given the privilege of wealth. We didn’t earn like others did. There were no opportunities to gather money freely, no chances to indulge in things like this. At best, we survived on small stipends, barely enough to get by, let alone enough to afford something so... extravagant.

Which made this...Impossible.

My gaze slowly lifted from the necklace to his face, my expression hardening, the brief flicker of awe replaced entirely by suspicion.

"How did you get the money to buy this, Vincent?" I asked, my voice quieter now, but far more serious. I took another step closer, closing the small distance between us, my eyes searching his face carefully, as though I could pull the answer straight from him if I looked long enough. "Is there something you aren’t telling me?"

For a moment, he hesitated.

"Come on, Maria," he said finally, forcing a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "It’s just a necklace." He paused, almost dramatically, like he was trying to downplay the weight of what he had just revealed. "There is no need to suddenly become a detective."

I didn’t respond immediately, because his words didn’t sit right with me, not even a little.

Just a necklace?

There was nothing "just" about this.

My gaze dropped briefly to the necklace again, my mind racing, trying to make sense of it, trying to fit it into a reality where it simply didn’t belong. Even if he claimed he had saved up for it... how was that even possible?

We arrived at this pack at almost the same time. The numbers on our tags could testify.

So how?

How could he have saved up enough in such a short time to afford something like this?

It didn’t add up.

"Look, Maria... I am your friend." His voice softened, taking on a tone that almost sounded reassuring as he stepped closer.

Before I could react, he placed both hands gently on my shoulders, his grip firm but not forceful, as if he wanted to ground me, make me stay, make me listen.

"If you ever need anything, just let me know," he continued, his eyes holding mine with an intensity that felt a little too deliberate. "I am more than capable."

For a moment, I didn’t respond.

The closeness, the weight of his hands, the way his words lingered in the air, it all felt... overwhelming in a way I couldn’t quite explain. I let out a small cough, more to break the tension than anything else, and shifted slightly under his touch.

"Thank you for the offer, Vincent," I said, my voice polite but distant, carefully measured as I tried to create some space between us without making it obvious. My gaze drifted away from his face, settling somewhere past his shoulder, avoiding the intensity in his eyes. "But I don’t think I need to bother you."

There was a brief pause, a subtle shift in the atmosphere between us.

"And as for this..." I added quietly, my eyes flicking down to the box still in his hand before quickly looking away again, "I cannot accept it."

"Why?"

The single word cut through the air sharply.

I looked back at him instantly.

His tone had changed.

There was something darker in it now, something edged with tension, with something unspoken that made my chest tighten slightly. The softness from before had faded, replaced by something far more unsettling.

"Is it because of Noah?"

The question lingered between us, heavier than anything he had said before.

I frowned, my brows knitting together as confusion and discomfort flickered across my face.

"And what do you mean by that?" I asked instead, my voice slower now, more cautious.