The mansion was silent the morning after the attack. Too silent.
Seren sat at the edge of her bed, staring at the floor. Her arms ached from yesterday, but that wasn't what bothered her. What bothered her was the knowledge that the people who tried to breach Alaric's home knew exactly what they were doing. They weren't amateurs. They were professionals.
Alaric didn't speak much. He moved through the house with precision, checking cameras, inspecting locks, issuing orders to the guards. Seren followed him silently, observing everything. She had learned quickly: mistakes were fatal here.
"They're organized," she said finally, breaking the quiet.
Alaric didn't glance at her. "The Circle doesn't forgive. And they never forget. Yesterday was just a warning."
Seren's hands tightened into fists. "Then we hit back?"
Alaric's gaze finally landed on her. Cold. Calculated. "We don't just hit back. We end them. Brutally."
Her stomach twisted. She had imagined revenge, sure, but she hadn't imagined the weight of it. The lives they'd destroy. The risks they'd take.
---
By midday, Alaric had gathered his closest team. Seren stood near the edge, watching the discussion. Names were mentioned, movements analyzed, locations checked. Every word mattered. Every decision could be life or death.
"You'll lead the diversion," Alaric said finally. His eyes met Seren's. "You understand the risk?"
"Yes," she said, though her voice shook slightly.
"No hesitation," he said. "If you hesitate, people die. Not just them. People you care about."
She nodded. The gravity of her choice pressed down on her.
---
That night, the Circle made their next move. A warehouse near the edge of the city exploded. Alaric's team had been tracking them. Surveillance footage showed men moving fast, packing heat, checking exits.
Seren watched from a safe distance, heart racing. This was real. Lives would be lost. And yet, she couldn't turn away.
Alaric stood beside her, silent. His presence was heavy. Powerful. Unforgiving.
"They're clever," she whispered.
"Yes," he replied. "But clever isn't enough."
The operation began. Alaric's men moved like shadows, coordinated, precise. Seren followed instructions, her nerves taut. Every step was measured. Every glance calculated.
The Circle had underestimated them. The first wave of attackers fell quickly. But then, the second wave arrived, faster, more prepared.
Alaric's strategy adapted instantly. He wasn't human. He was calculated, methodical, and brutal.
Seren had to force herself to focus. The adrenaline made her shaky, but she moved as he instructed.
By the time the battle ended, the Circle had been routed. Many were gone, some captured. Alaric stood over the fallen, his expression unreadable.
Seren looked at him. "It's over."
He shook his head. "It's never over. They'll regroup. They always do. But we've sent a message. And that's what counts."
Her stomach churned. Brutality came with a price. And now, she had tasted it.
"You did well," Alaric said finally, his voice low. "Better than I expected."
Seren swallowed, unsure if it was praise or a warning.
Later, in the quiet of the mansion, she sat alone. The images of the warehouse, the chaos, and the fallen attackers played in her mind.
Revenge wasn't clean. It wasn't simple.
And now, Seren knew one undeniable truth: in Alaric Vale's world, mercy was weakness, and survival was just the beginning.
Outside, the city lights flickered, indifferent to the battles fought in the shadows.
Seren touched the ring on her finger.
This marriage had become far more than a contract. It was war.