He didn't believe in fate.
Not anymore. Not in the way mortals clung to it,hoping that the stars had plans, that the universe was kind.
He believed in silence. In power earned through centuries of control. In consequences.
And yet… dreams had begun to plague him.
Not visions. Not memories. Just the sensation of pull. Of something unseen but pressing. Something wrong.
Caelen hated it.
He never saw a face. Never heard a voice. Just a presence in the dark, like someone reaching for him through a veil he couldn't tear open. Each time he woke, it was with a tightness in his chest that made no sense. With a heat in his blood that he hadn't felt in years.
He sat quietly in the back seat of the sleek black car, fingers wrapped loosely around a Silver ring that belongs to a king, jaw clenched.
Rain traced patterns down the glass.
The city passed in a blur—loud, mortal, forgettable.
In the passenger seat, Cassian shifted, golden-eyed and lazy with amusement. "You're brooding again," he said, flashing a grin. "Dream girl keeping you up?"
Caelen didn't move.
Alec drove in silence, fingers steady on the wheel. "He wouldn't say if she was."
"Of course not," Theo chimed in from the far back seat, tossing a coin between his fingers. "Caelen wouldn't admit to being haunted even if the ghost was dancing in his bathtub."
Caelen's voice was quiet, but it cut through them. "It's not a girl."
The others fell silent. The car turned down a quieter road, winding into the hills. The house—ancient stone and magic-woven gates,rose ahead like a secret hidden in plain sight.
Cassian gave him a sideways glance. "Then what is it, brother?"
Caelen's gaze sharpened on the gate. "Something that shouldn't be real."
They said nothing after that. Not until the car stopped, and the gate groaned open with its usual protest.
But as Caelen stepped out, a flicker danced across his senses.
Barely there.
Expected.
His jaw tightened.
Whatever this thing was, whatever force dared to reach into his mind night after night—it was getting closer.
And Caelen was going to find it.
Then he would decide whether to destroy it… or let it destroy him.
The car pulled into the stone courtyard, slick with rain. Magic shimmered faintly in the puddles, warding off any curious eyes.
Cassian was the first to hop out, stretching like a cat. His magic crackled around him like static—playful, golden, too wild for most to tame. He was Caelen's younger brother . Born decades apart, but bound together by something deeper. Cassian never took anything too seriously...except Caelen.
Theo followed, twirling that same silver coin. He moved like a shadow that knew how to smile. Mischievous, unpredictable, often the one dragging Cassian into trouble and then charming his way out of it. Caelen tolerated him.
Alec was last to step out—calm, composed, every movement deliberate. If Caelen was ice, Alec was steel. Sharp. Precise. The only one among them who challenged Caelen's logic, and the only one who could match his silence.
The mansion loomed behind the gates—old stone wrapped in ivy, humming with layers of enchantments. Inside, the halls were quiet, the air always cool. Home, in the loosest sense of the word. A sanctuary for monsters who didn't quite belong anywhere else.
They lived together, these four. Not out of need, but out of history. Shared battles. Shared secrets. A promise made in blood, long ago.
Caelen liked order. Silence. Control.
Cassian liked music and expensive wine.
Theo liked to see how far he could push the rules.
Alec kept the balance, always the observer.
And yet, despite the centuries, none of them had ever seen Caelen so unsettled.
But now…
He stood still in the foyer, water dripping from his coat, and the pull from the dream lingered.
Cassian tossed him a dry towel and said nothing.
Theo leaned against the stairwell, eyeing him with interest.
Alec disappeared into the library without a word,but Lucien knew he was listening, always listening.
Something was shifting.
And whether it was fate, magic, or something older… Caelen felt it creeping ever closer.