Chapter 93: The House of the First Blood

Chapter 93: Chapter 93: The House of the First Blood

Alexander’s car moved silently through the late-evening streets, its dark exterior reflecting the passing city lights as Oliver guided the vehicle out of Emerald Heights and onto the quiet, tree-lined highway toward the outskirts of Seattle.

Iris sat quietly in the plush leather back seat, her hands folded loosely over her lap, her fingers occasionally tracing the hem of her skirt to keep her thoughts anchored.

Beside her, Alexander remained perfectly composed, his long legs crossed at the ankle, one arm resting against the window sill as he looked out into the gathering darkness.

He had barely spoken since they had left her apartment, yet his silence felt heavy, deliberate, and surprisingly comforting. It wasn’t the awkward stillness of a stranger, but the patient reserve of someone giving her space to absorb the dizzying weight of everything she had just learned.

Zoey, meanwhile, had spent the entire journey leaning forward against the passenger seat, staring through the front windshield with an unmistakable, jittery excitement. Iris noticed her friend fidgeting—checking her phone, shifting her posture, adjusting her jacket—and could only shake her head softly.

She already knew what was driving Zoey’s sudden burst of adrenaline. The last time Zoey had set foot near the Blackthorne estate, she had somehow managed to breach the perimeter without being tackled by security—or so she had naively believed.

After everything that had transpired over the last few hours, Iris was beginning to realize that Zoey’s dramatic tale of stealth and investigation had been far less sneaky than her friend liked to imagine. And now, instead of skulking through the bushes in the dark, Zoey was being driven through the front gates as an invited guest.

The city lights gradually faded behind them, swallowed by a dense corridor of ancient, looming firs and pines. The private road wound deeper into the estate’s surrounding woodland, the paved track rising smoothly up a fog-draped incline. The air outside grew noticeably cooler, clinging to the tinted glass in a fine, misty veil.

And then, the entrance appeared beyond the curve.

Iris slowly sat up straighter, her spine stiffening against the leather seat. The grand gates rose toweringly into the night—massive, heavy ironwork stretching several meters into the air, anchored by broad stone pillars built from dark, hand-cut granite. Elaborate wolf-like symbols were deeply carved into the stone face, their sharp eyes illuminated from within by a subtle, cold white light that cut through the mist.

Security cameras pan-tilting on silent swivels lined the stone parapets above, their small red lenses blinking rhythmically. Positioned at strategic intervals around the guardhouse were men dressed in tailored dark suits, standing at a level of motionless discipline that made them look almost like statues carved from the same granite as the pillars.

Iris stared at the armed perimeter, her breath catching in her throat, she pressed her shoulder against the back of the front passenger seat, her eyes wide as she traced the intricate, brutalist patterns of the ironwork stretching high into the gloom.

The shear scale of the estate didn’t just intimate; it radiated a quiet, ancient authority that made her pulse flutter frantically against her collarbone. She leaned closer to Zoey, resting her hand against the driver’s headrest to speak quietly into Zoey’s ear.

"Zoey... how in the world did you say you sneaked inside this place?" Iris whispered, her eyes darting toward the armed security personnel standing at stiff attention near the guardhouse, their dark trench coats barely concealing the tactical gear beneath.

"Look at this. Looking at the sheer presence of this gate, I don’t even understand where you found the nerve to set foot near the driveway, let alone past security."

In the front passenger seat, Zoey’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her eyes darted from the tall iron spires to the guardhouse, then to the high-definition security rig, and finally back to Iris.

She turned around in her seat, her face pale, her fingers clutching the leather headrest so tightly her knuckles were white. Her usual quick-witted composure had completely evaporated, replaced by a stunned, wide-eyed stare as she watched two guards with earpieces scan the underside of the vehicle with optical mirrors.

"I swear, Iris, it wasn’t like this yesterday," Zoey muttered defensively, her voice dropping into an anxious register. Her gaze darted toward the high-definition security cameras pan-tilting silently along the stone parapets. "The side gate was unlocked. There wasn’t a soul in sight along the eastern wall. I thought I was being a master detective... I thought I was being sneaky."

Oliver’s broad shoulders shifted slightly in the driver’s seat. A faint, razor-thin smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth as he kept his eyes on the road.

Zoey caught the expression in the rearview mirror immediately. "Don’t."

Oliver glanced at her sideways, his tone entirely casual. "I didn’t say anything."

"You were about to."

"I was merely admiring your confidence," Oliver replied, his hands holding the leather steering wheel with effortless ease.

"My confidence?" Zoey gestured emphatically toward the looming iron gates. "Look at this place! Does that look like somewhere a sane human being casually sneaks into with a flashlight and a camera?"

Oliver’s smirk widened just a fraction. "You certainly seemed convinced it was yesterday."

"Yesterday I thought it was a private residence belonging to an eccentric billionaire with an over-the-top security budget," Zoey muttered, sinking back into her seat and crossing her arms. "Now I’m realizing it’s basically an impenetrable military fortress."

Alexander finally spoke. His deep baritone filled the warm interior of the vehicle, the vibration reverberating faintly through the leather seats and settling at the base of Iris’s neck.

"Your friend was flagged approximately a mile from the primary perimeter before she even reached the outer tree line," he said calmly, his gaze remaining fixed on the road ahead.

Zoey turned her head around slowly, her jaw tight. "Wait... what?"

"I was informed of your approach the moment you stepped off the county road," Alexander continued, his tone unhurried, almost conversational.

Iris turned to look at him, taking in the sharp angle of his jaw and the cool, unreadable blue of his eyes.

"I wanted to understand what brought a human so close to my gates without an invitation," Alexander said softly, his voice carrying an undeniable, quiet weight. "And when you breached the lower gardens to look around, I watched every step you took."

Zoey stared at him, caught between sheer disbelief and indignation. "You watched me? The entire time I was sneaking through your rose bushes?"

"Yes."

Zoey opened her mouth to argue, closed it, and slowly slumped lower into her seat.

"When I saw what you were investigating," Alexander added, his eyes briefly flicking toward Iris before returning to the windshield, "I instructed Derrick to escort you off the grounds without harm. I had no intention of allowing you to stumble into something you couldn’t comprehend before I had the chance to speak with Iris myself."

Iris felt a soft, quiet realization settle over her. She looked from Alexander to Zoey, a faint, wry smile touching her lips. "So all this time... you were completely aware she was wandering around your back yard?"

Alexander’s blue eyes settled on hers, dark and intense. "I am aware of everything that touches my land, Iris."

The faint smile on her lips faded, replaced by a strange, tingling warmth beneath her skin. It wasn’t fear that made her chest tighten; it was the overwhelming realization of who—and what—was sitting beside her. Alexander didn’t rely on simple locks or guards patrolling the fence line. He commanded an entire ecosystem of power and authority that noticed a falling leaf before it even hit the ground.

Before she could dwell on it any longer, the heavy iron gates began to move, parting silently with a deep, mechanical hum. Ground lights flickered to life along the stone curb, illuminating the long, winding cobblestone driveway that swept up toward the main house.

Oliver eased the car forward, its tires crunching softly against the wet stone. Iris pressed closer to the window, her breath fogging the glass slightly as she looked out into the grounds. Ancient, gargantuan trees lined the path, their thick branches arching overhead to form a dark, natural canopy that blocked out the sky.

Set back between the trees, mounted on carved stone pedestals, were various sculptures. At first glance, Iris assumed they were conventional statues of timber wolves. But as the car glided past one after another, she realized each figure was strikingly distinct. Some were depicted on four legs, their muscles taut and teeth bared, while others stood upright in intimidating, half-human postures—broad chests, extended claws, and thick, powerful jaws.

Iris pressed her fingers against the glass. "This place..." Her voice trailed off. Zoey’s descriptions from their apartment hadn’t been an exaggeration at all. If anything, her friend’s frantic words hadn’t done the property justice.

The main mansion emerged from behind the dark canopy, sitting atop a sweeping marble rise like a ancient gothic citadel. The architecture was breath-taking—a stunning fusion of heavy, historic stone masonry and sharp, modern glass cutouts. Tall pillars supported a vaulted portico, and a wide staircase of polished black stone led up to a set of massive, reinforced wooden double doors.

But it was the central fountain in the middle of the circular driveway that made Iris freeze.

Carved from solid black marble, the fountain featured a monumental figure rising from the surging water at its center. Iris stared at it, her eyes widening as the car rounded the driveway.