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The trees seemed to glide by on either side like liquid shadows as the three vampires moved through the forest at impossible speeds. The silence was nearly complete, broken only by the occasional crunch of branches underfoot and the soft whisper of the wind through the pines. Sunlight had begun to filter through the tall canopy, casting golden beams that forced them to stay within heavily shaded areas, always careful to avoid human eyes.
Vladimir, leading the way, turned his face slightly toward Nate.
"We're following the trail of several newborns," he reported in a deep voice, never slowing. "It ends at an old factory, south of here, near the outskirts of Seattle."
Stefan, bringing up the rear, added calmly:
"The wisest move is to circle around the forest perimeter. A direct path would put us under the sun and near areas frequented by humans. We can't risk being seen."
Nate didn't respond right away. His eyes were fixed ahead, though his mind was moving faster than his body. If the newborns were all in one place… and the Cullens hadn't intervened yet…
"Have you seen the Cullen group?" he asked suddenly, without turning.
Vladimir let out a short, dry laugh.
"Yes. There are a lot of them. They're gathered in the center of the city, like they're waiting for something."
Nate frowned, slowing slightly to come up beside Vladimir.
"Waiting? Why haven't they attacked yet? It's been two days…"
He said no more. The reason didn't matter as much as the outcome. If they hadn't moved yet, he still had time. He felt grateful for that unexpected window. An opportunity.
Alice was still safe.
Stefan, curious, spoke from behind:
"Are you going to join them? Fight together against the newborns?"
"No," Nate replied firmly, without hesitation. "I want to keep my mate as far away from that fight as possible."
His voice wasn't a suggestion. It was a command.
He stopped abruptly, turning his face toward Stefan.
"You go. Keep the Cullens occupied. Lead them in the opposite direction if you can. I'll only need a few hours."
For a second, Stefan stared at him without replying. After centuries of volatile alliances, no one spoke to him in commanding tones—especially not someone so young. But if it bothered him, he didn't show it. He simply inclined his head.
"As you wish, Nathaniel."
Vladimir, on the other hand, smiled with that ancient, wild glint in his eyes.
"A newborn army… just you and me. Sounds like a good challenge," he said almost eagerly, like he could already taste the battle.
Nate only nodded and resumed the march.
A few seconds later, the group split. Stefan took a detour toward the city, vanishing into the forest shadows in flawless silence. Vladimir, needing no further words, continued leading Nate along the hidden path toward the abandoned factory.
The terrain began to shift as they neared the city's outskirts. The trees, though still dense, gave way to clearings where the vegetation was lower, and the ground turned to loose earth, tangled with weeds and exposed roots. The distant hum of moving cars could be heard, blending with the sharp whistle of birds sensing their presence.
Vladimir slowed slightly, raising a hand. Nate mimicked the gesture, stopping beside him atop a moss-covered hill. From there, they could partially see through the tree line: a gray, rusted structure emerged from the foliage like an industrial corpse. The abandoned factory was a cracked concrete block, with collapsed roofs in places and shattered windows like empty sockets. Machinery remnants jutted out from rust and grime, slowly being devoured by invasive vegetation.
"There it is," Vladimir murmured, nodding his chin. His voice was barely audible, but thick with anticipation. "The scent of newborns is everywhere. They haven't learned to mask their trail."
Nate sharpened his senses. The air was thick with a mix of smells: damp earth, old metal… and yes, the rough, unstable scent of several young vampires. Easy to recognize, because he still carried it himself.
"How many?" Nate asked, eyes still on the building.
"About thirty, maybe fewer. The stench changes. They move a lot. When I came yesterday, I even saw a few killing each other…"
"And Victoria…?"
"The only one who's not a newborn," Vladimir replied. "She seems alert. When we got close to Scout, she nearly caught us, but we backed off quickly."
A tense silence settled between them. Nate looked down, gauging the distance between them and the building. He knew what needed to be done. He couldn't leave loose ends. This time, he would be decisive.
"I'm going in," he said without hesitation. "I want you to wait outside and, if she tries to escape, contain her as much as you can."
Vladimir glanced sideways at him, his lips curling into a slight smile.
"Planning to put on a show?"
Nate remained silent, his mind processing his next moves.
Vladimir let out a hoarse chuckle, older than any human sound.
"If you can, leave a few alive. They might be useful."
Nate didn't wait any longer. In a blink, he descended the hill with smooth, precise movements, like a predator locked onto its prey. He left no trace, no sound. Only the distant crunch of underbrush bending under his swift steps.
As he neared the factory's perimeter, the atmosphere shifted. The air grew heavier, almost electric. Not with fear. Not yet. But with tension. There was movement inside—low voices, occasional thuds that made the walls tremble, footsteps echoing like phantom beats through the concrete corridors.
Newborns. Undisciplined. Too noisy for their own good.
Nate stopped next to an exterior wall, placing one hand on the cold concrete. He inhaled deeply and, with a sharp push, knocked down an entire section of the wall. The impact echoed through the building. Chunks of brick and metal flew in all directions as dust rose like thick fog.
All eyes turned to him.
Dozens of red irises locked on the lone figure emerging from the rubble. The tension was palpable. Many sniffed the air anxiously, confused. Nate didn't smell quite like them, even with the newborn stench. There was something more—something dominant, feral. Something none of them could immediately identify.
His eyes scanned the room with glacial calm. He counted precisely: twenty-seven newborns. None seemed older than twenty-three when they were turned. Some argued like disoriented wolves; others cowered in corners, trembling, eyes darting. A few clustered in unsure groups of four or five.
The atmosphere was chaotic. Fragile. A brittle equilibrium on the verge of collapse.
On the second floor of the factory, leaning over a rusted railing, was Victoria. She watched from above with a curious expression. She didn't remember turning the vampire who'd just arrived, though his face felt vaguely familiar. She'd bitten so many insignificant humans that she could barely recall them anymore. But she couldn't help but notice that this newcomer carried a presence far more imposing than Riley's…
But Nate didn't look at her yet. He was measuring the room like a hunter before the pounce.
Then, one of the newborns decided to approach. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a crooked grin on his face. He walked over with a swagger, assuming this was just another recruit needing to learn his place.
Without asking, he reached out and clamped a firm hand on Nate's shoulder, trying to assert dominance.
Fatal mistake.
Nate turned in a single motion, fast as lightning. His arms moved with surgical precision and, before the newborn could react, Nate's hands clamped brutally around his head.
With one sharp twist, he snapped it with devastating force.
The crack echoed through the factory like a gunshot.
Without missing a beat, Nate tore the head from the body in one clean motion.
The torso hit the ground with a hollow thud.
The head rolled a few feet and stopped next to a chunk of debris.
Absolute silence.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
And through the hanging dust, Nate slowly looked up.
The newborns remained frozen. Not a single one dared to move.
The silence after the killing was thick, like hot ash clinging to the throat. Some exchanged quick, nervous glances. The vampire Nate had just killed wasn't just anyone. Rumor had it that, if Riley hadn't been Victoria's chosen one, he would've been her right hand. He had his own circle—four newborns who followed him like starving dogs begging for scraps of power.
Now, those four stared at the body. Or what remained of it.
Head and body, discarded like garbage.
Their faces showed a mix of rage and fear… but none stepped forward.
No one dared.
Nate didn't move.
He glanced down at the severed head as if evaluating something, searching for an emotion that never came.
He felt no guilt.
Not even a hint of remorse.
Only a bitter disappointment sank into his gut like molten lead.
A part of him asked cruelly:
What if I kill them all?
What if I set them on fire and let their ashes fill this foul air?
Maybe, in the middle of that blaze, the fury would finally subside.
Maybe, at last, there would be silence.
He raised his gaze slowly.
And then he saw her.
Victoria.
To Nate, she was a shadow. A dark blot in his memory. A creature that had taken so much from him, he could never reclaim.
But unfortunately for her, she had also taken his fear.
Because Nate no longer feared Victoria.
Nor the newborns.
Nor anyone who dared approach him with bared fangs.
Seeing her there, so calm, so sure of herself, stirred something else. Not rage.
Something darker. Deeper.
He wanted her to suffer.
He wanted her to feel something close to what he had felt. To scream. To beg.
But his face didn't change.
His body stood tall, unmoving, like a marble statue among the ruins.
Then, without stepping forward, eyes fixed on Victoria and now twenty-six pairs of crimson eyes on him,
He opened his mouth to speak.
His voice emerged like black silk: melodic, deep, carefully modulated to capture attention… but cold enough to seep under the skin like ice water.
"I don't know what they told you after they took your humanity. But there's one thing you all need to understand."
The newborns couldn't help but feel intimidated. His presence was overwhelming. Something about him felt like the edge of an abyss. It seemed that if you blinked—if you lost sight of him for even a second—the next thing you'd see would be your own death.
Nate, unaware—or indifferent—to their thoughts, continued, giving them no time to respond.
"Everyone of you here is going to die."
The spell broke.
Several stepped back, as if pushed by an invisible force.
A tense murmur rose, barely audible under whispers of panic.
"Victoria and Riley were right!"
"They sent him to kill us—the golden-eyed ones sent him!"
Nate didn't interrupt. He let them talk. Let them swallow their fear. He listened. Measured.
And then he took a single step forward.
Absolute silence.
All eyes, like threads of fire, locked on him again. Even the loudest fell quiet.
There was no doubt—whoever this intruder was, he had just claimed the center of their world, and did so as if it already belonged to him.
Nate spoke again, every word carved with purpose.
"But I'm here to give you a chance."
His gaze swept across the room, meeting their eyes, one by one.
"Victoria can't protect you. She can't lead you. She can't even face me."
Some newborns frowned. Rage boiled in their veins. They saw him as a blasphemer.
But others… others hesitated.
They hesitated because survival instinct still flickered within them. And that instinct told them that, whatever Nate was, he wasn't a normal vampire.
Not even Riley could have killed like that. So clean. So simple.
"I can lead you," Nate continued firmly. "And I'm offering you something you won't get twice."
His voice hardened like forged steel.
"A chance."
He said it without moving a muscle, without raising his voice. He didn't need to.
"Anyone who bows their head will walk out of here alive."