The call came at 3:17 AM, jarring Seraphina from the first peaceful sleep she'd managed since Victor's threatening message. Her phone buzzed with an unknown number, and every instinct screamed danger before she even answered.
"Seraphina." Victor's voice poured through the speaker like poisoned honey. "I trust Scotland treated you well? Eighteen families pledging loyalty—quite impressive for a substitute bride."
She was fully awake now, silver fire already building in her chest. Beside her, Damon stirred, his wolf senses picking up the threat in her emotional state.
"What do you want, Victor?"
"To discuss your mother, naturally. Elena Silverwood's final hours were... educational. But I think that conversation requires the proper atmosphere." His pause felt calculated, designed for maximum psychological impact. "Perhaps somewhere more private than a London penthouse or Scottish castle."
"I'm not meeting you anywhere."
