<h4>Chapter 94: Chapter 94: Percival Hunt</h4>


    Felix had recovered faster than anyone thought. He jumped up the stage, snarling as he brandished his silver weapon. Off the stage, Lucas’s eyes widened.


    “Liam!”


    Instantly, Liam swiveled back. His jaws mped down on Felix’s hand as the vampire screeched in pain. Then, with a sharp yank of his head, Felix’s arm was torn clean off.


    Felix screamed, copsing to his knees as ck blood spurted from the wound. His severed arm fell to the ground, the sleeve of his jacket tearing away to reveal a distinctive mark on the pale flesh.


    A wolf howling at the sun.


    Liam’s eyes narrowed at the symbol, recognizing it instantly from their encounters with the kidnapper and Esther. Before he could question Felix about it, several security guards rushed down to the arena floor. Lucas hurried over as well.


    “He tastes disgusting,” Liam said as he shifted back, wiping the blood off his lips.


    They watched as Felix reached for his arm and attached it back, groaning in agony the entire time. His flesh quickly reattached the wound, and he moved his shoulder, testing the limb. Once he was sure it was working properly, he red at Liam.


    “You son of a bitch—”


    “That’s enough!” one of them barked, stepping between Liam and Felix.


    “The boss wants to see you two.” He pointed at Lucas and Liam. “Alphas, this way please.”


    The two brothers shared a look. Liam had only won one fight. That was far from being the champion of tonight. However, they chose not to question it.


    “You okay?” Lucas asked his brother.


    Liam nodded. “The fight was easier than I thought.”


    Hearing him, Felix turned back and red at him, though he didn’t daree over.


    “I know,” Lucas said, resisting the urge to smirk. “Come on. Let’s go get some answers.”


    The guards led them away from the fighting pit, through a maze of hallways filled with gamblers and spectators. Most of them were loudly discussing the results of the match, and when Liam and Lucas walked past, they cast a curious nce at the two men.


    “This way,” one of the guards said, gesturing toward a private elevator.


    The doors opened to reveal a plush interior with gold ents. As they ascended, Lucas exchanged a nce with his brother. Whatever waited for them upstairs could be a trap, but they had no choice. They needed information about Hazel, and this seemed their best lead.


    When the elevator doors opened, they were met with another set of guards who led them down a short hallway. The sounds from the arena were muffled here, reced by soft jazz ying from hidden speakers.


    “Through here,” the guard said, opening a set of double doors.


    The luxury box was more grand than they’d expected. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the fighting pit below, giving a perfect view of the action. Inside, a private bar lined one wall, stocked with bottles that would cost most people a month’s sry each. Plush leather couches were arranged around a central coffee table, and in the corner sat a gleaming pool table.


    A man sat with his back to them, smoke from his cigar creating a hazy cloud above his head. He didn’t turn when they entered.


    “The Sullivan brothers, as requested, sir,” announced the guard.


    “Leave us,” the man said, his voice deep andmanding.


    Once the guards had filed out and closed the doors behind them, the man pressed a button on a remote control. The windows overlooking the arena instantly tinted, providingplete privacy.


    Only then did he turn to face them.


    He was old, perhaps seventy, with pure white hair slicked back from a weathered face. Despite his age, he carried himself with the power and confidence of someone half his years. His tailored suit looked expensive, and several heavy rings adorned his fingers. He looked like an old mafia boss from the movies.


    “Please, sit,” he said, gesturing to the couches across from him.


    “We prefer to stand,” Lucas replied coolly.


    The man chuckled. “Suit yourselves. I’m Percival.” He tapped his cigar on a crystal ashtray. “What brings the Alphas of the Emberfang Pack to my humble establishment?”


    Lucas kept his expression neutral. “We heard The Dark Hour has information to offer.”


    “Information is a valuablemodity,” Percival said, taking another pull from his cigar. “What specifically are you looking for?”


    “We want to know about two things,” Liam cut in. “First, do you know Angeline Bailey? She was said to frequent The Dark Hour years ago.”


    At the mention of the name, something flickered in the old man’s eyes, but it was gone in a sh.


    “And second,” Lucas continued, “what does this symbol mean?” He described the mark they’d seen on Felix’s arm—the wolf howling at the sun. “We’ve encountered it multiple times recently.”


    Percival stiffened, the cigar halfway to his lips. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint jazz music and the distant cheers from the arena below. A new match had started.


    He set the cigar down carefully, as if buying himself time.


    “You’ve stumbled onto something quite dangerous,” he finally said, his voice lower now. “That symbol belongs to a group called Vox Solis.”


    Lucas and Liam exchanged nces.


    “What is the Vox Solis?” Lucas pressed.


    Percival leaned back, steepling his fingers. “They’re a cult, though they’d call themselves scientists and visionaries. They believe our kind—werewolves, vampires, all supernaturals—should control our own destinies rather than be ves to the whims of fate.”


    “Meaning?” Liam asked.


    “Meaning they despise the concept of fated mates,” Percival exined. “They’ve been working for decades to find ways to break mate bonds and create new ones artificially.”


    Lucas felt his blood run cold. If this cult targeted mate bonds, and they were somehow involved with Hazel’s kidnapping...


    “How do they do it? Break mate bonds?” Lucas asked, trying to keep his voice steady.


    “Various methods,” Percival said. “Some traditional—separation, psychological maniption. Others more... scientific. They’ve recruited members from all walks of life—werewolves, vampires, humans with knowledge of our world, even fae. Anyone who can contribute to their cause.”


    “And they’re involved with Angeline Bailey?” Liam pressed.


    Percival’s eyes hardened. He stood up slowly, walking to the bar where he poured himself a drink. The brothers watched him warily, tensed for any sign of threat.


    “You didn’t answer our first question,” Lucas reminded him. “Do you know Angeline Bailey?”


    Percival took a long sip of his drink before turning to face them fully.


    “Yes,” he said finally. “I know her.”


    He set down his ss with a soft clink.


    “Angeline Bailey was my daughter.”