"Let's conclude here. We'll hold another meeting in two weeks—same time, same location. I think everyone needs some time to make a decision." Danialle said while looking at everyone present in the room.
Everyone agrees with this sentence. They need some time to think about this. After all, Ash Fangs aren't some simple gang they can afford to offend.
One by one, the other groups rose and began to exit, each leaving a trace of their scent behind—sharp citrus, heavy musk, dry spice. Faint trails of lingering pheromones laced the air, creating a cocktail of territory and ego.
Only two factions remained.
The Wolf Mark.
The Crimson Vultures.
Kael Vescari leaned back in his seat, legs spread wide, jaw clenched in thought. The moment the doors closed behind the last leader, his eyes flicked up to Rin.
"You're not leaving?" Kael said.
Rin also leaned back and said while raising an eyebrow," Don't you have something to say to me?"
Rin can tell from the way Kael looks at him that he wants him to stay.
He didn't know how he knew that Kael wanted him to stay. Maybe it was those intense stares Kael looked at him with that he had the feeling that he had something to say to him.
And Rin knew he was right.
And since the boss didn't leave, the subordinates remained as well. Lucas looked like he wanted to say something but held back—he understood that if Rin stayed, it meant he wanted to hear what Kael had to say. Meanwhile, Kael's subordinates exchanged confused glances, clearly surprised that their boss was stopping this pretty beta from leaving.
Kael didn't answer him; instead, he stood up, rolling his shoulders with a crack. "I don't trust them," he said plainly, jerking his head toward the door.
Rin arched a brow.
Kael slowly walked toward Rin, his tone low and calculated. "They'll fold the second Ash Fang breathes on them. We both know it. They're desperate, not loyal."
"And you are?" Rin asked, voice silky, with a slight challenge. He crossed one leg over the other, still seated, his expression unreadable but eyes glinting beneath thick lashes.
Kael stopped in front of him, moving Rins' chair so they could face each other. "I'm not asking for loyalty. I'm proposing a strategy."
Rin tilted his head. "Go on."
Kael leaned forward, placing both palms on the back of the chair. "Let's make a pact. You and I, Crimson Vultures, and Wolf Mark. A silent alliance. We don't tell the others.. Just you and me—taking Ash Fang out from the root."
"And what would I get out of this secret pact?" Rin asked, voice like smoke.
Kael's gaze didn't flinch. "Revenge."
Kael's voice dropped. "You want Silas dead, right?"
Rin's lips twitched.
"It's no secret in the underworld that the Crimson Vultures and the Ash Fangs share a bitter grudge. Ever since the Crimson Vultures emerged, they have relentlessly targeted them, rejecting all offers of alliance and inflicting heavy damage on their warehouses."
Kael nodded once. " I also want revenge. Our goals collide. Why not work together?"
Something flared in Rin's eyes—a dark, cold fire.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The low hum of the club's backlighting pulsed faintly between them.
Rin closed the distance, his face mere inches from Kael's—just a breath between them.
"Alright then," Rin said quietly. "Let's break him together."
Kael straight up and extended a gloved hand, fingers loose but strong. "Deal?"
"Deal," Rin shook his hand while standing.
This marks the beginning of a pact between their teams.
A Pact forged in smoke and silk.
The sharp echo of Rin's shoes hitting polished marble faded as he descended the club steps, the cool night air curling around him. The dark-tinted car pulled up on cue—sleek, matte black, windows nearly opaque. Lucas opened the door wordlessly.
Rin slid in without a glance back.
As the car pulled away from Cruz Club, a figure leaned against the far shadows near the entrance, partially veiled in the golden haze of streetlights.
Kael Vescari.
The Alpha watched the red taillights disappear into the fog of midnight traffic, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Are you planning to be allies with the crimson vultures?" Danialle said with a frown on his face.
Rowan, Kaed, and Jax were also doubting their leader's word, but they did not voice their thought like Danielle because they knew their boss might have his arrangements.
"As I said, we both have the same goal," Kael said without looking at him.
Danialle looks like he wants to say more, but stays quiet.
"Make sure this meeting between me and Asano remains confidential, and let the news about the meeting of all the gang leaders reach Silas," Kael said in a commanding tone.
" Understood," Danialle said in a respectful tone, not the usual relaxing tone that he used to talk with the other gang leader.
Kael turned, striding toward his vehicle—his black-and-silver sports car already purring softly as if eager for war. His men followed silently behind, keeping their distance.
The game had begun.
On the other side of the city.
The club pulsed like a living heart—loud, sinful, and decadent.
Lavish chandeliers cast fractured light over black marble floors slick with spilled drinks and discarded inhibitions. Neon red and violet lights danced over velvet walls etched with thorned roses, while the heavy thrum of bass rattled in the bones of anyone who dared enter. The air was thick with smoke, pheromones, and something more—something rotten just beneath the glitz.
Scattered across the lower lounge, patrons lounged in shadowy booths, drinks in hand, eyes wild. Some were Alphas indulging in lines of powdered vice, their eyes glassy with euphoria. Others had Omegas curled beside them—collared, trembling, some drugged into obedience, others in the unmistakable throes of induced heat. Their scent clung to the air—hot, desperate, and wrong.
The club wasn't just a place to unwind. It was property of the Ash Fangs—a den of poison, both figurative and literal. Behind the walls of luxury was a hidden trade: kidnapped Omegas pumped full of synthetic pheromone stimulants, a brutal new drug designed to force heats regardless of will or cycle. Once they were "ripe," the Ash Fangs auctioned them to the highest bidder or rented them by the hour for an extortionate price. It was a profitable business—and a grotesque one.
On the top floor, behind soundproofed walls and a reinforced security door, was the VIP suite—a decadent room drowned in black and crimson velvet. Crystal decanters lined the liquor cabinet. Heavy curtains blocked the city's lights outside.
Silas Vael, leader of the Ash Fangs, lounged lazily on a leather armchair, a half-empty glass of blood-colored wine dangling between his fingers. The Alpha was a vision of cruel beauty—raven-black hair slicked back, sharp green eyes like broken glass, and a mouth made for smirking. A jagged scar trailed from his jaw to his collarbone, the only imperfection on an otherwise hauntingly perfect face.
Sitting on his lap was a dazed Omega, flushed, moaning softly—deep in forced heat, his trembling body curled into Silas's chest. The Alpha didn't look at him, only idly stroking his hair as if petting a dog.
Kane stepped into the room—tall, lean, with sun-bleached hair and calculating amber eyes. He paused briefly, eyeing the Omega before clearing his throat.
"Sir," Kane said coolly, voice barely audible over the moans. "The meeting between the underworld gangs was held tonight."
Silas didn't turn, just swirled his wine slowly.
"And?" he said, tone drenched in disinterest.
Kane's lips curled slightly. "The Crimson Vultures attended. Their leader was present."
At that, Silas turned, arching an eyebrow. "Oh?" His gaze sharpened with a glint of curiosity. "And who, exactly, is this elusive bird?"
Kane gave a stiff shrug. "We don't know what he looks like, but according to our informant, he's quite a beauty. And he's a Beta ."
Silas's smirk widened, slow and cruel. "Is that so?" He chuckled, low and dangerous, like a predator catching wind of something new to hunt.
" For a Beta to run such a dangerous gang, he sure is something."
"Well then," Silas said, leaning back as the Omega in his lap whimpered against him, "I look forward to finally meeting this mysterious little beauty."
He tipped his glass to his lips, savoring the drink as if it were blood.
"Let's see how long he can keep flying."