He arched a brow, tilting his head as if I'd asked something foolish. "Yes. Did you imagine I was born from stone?" His lips curved again with that annoying smirk of his. "Even monsters have mothers, Olivia."

"Yes," Frederick responded while already going for the door. "This is her home. I merely came for a visit." He opened it and stepped aside like a gentleman, gesturing for me to pass. I narrowed my eyes, and he rewarded me with his signature irritating smirk.

"Mother," he whispered, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. "Wake up." Her eyes opened slowly. Red eyes, but dull with age, looked at him. For a moment, I saw something different in him–fear, or maybe sadness.

"Mother," Frederick said again, his voice low. Then he looked at me. "Olivia is here." His lips curved into that annoying smirk again, but softer this time. "As I promised," he said.

Frederick stayed calm. He let his fingers trail lazily over his mother’s frail hand before straightening and turning toward me.

Frederick’s smirk widened, his eyes locked on mine, watching every flicker of shock on my face. "Yes. I had a one–night stand with his mother, a human, and she conceived. Unfortunately, she died giving birth to him. He has never known a mother. But soon…" His smirk sharpened. “…he will know you as his."

I kept my face blank while my fingers curled into the fabric of my dress under the table. This man was up to no good, but I’m up for it… two can play this game. "Okay," I shrugged, crossing my legs and leaning back, feigning composure when I was anything but calm.

"Hailee lived here for eleven years," he said softly, almost taunting. "Did we kill her?"

God, I wished I could wipe that smirk off his face with a single punch. My wolf pushed hard inside me, but I forced her down. I couldn’t risk losing control now. I straightened, lifting my chin, letting my voice come out calm. "We are not yet married, Lord Frederick." For a heartbeat, his smirk faltered–then returned, wider, sharper. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lazily against the polished wood. It seemed like this was a habit of his.

"She is here?" the aged woman asked weakly. Though she looked like a frail woman in her eighties, I knew she had to be hundreds of years old. "Yes, Mother… look," Frederick gestured toward me where I stood by the door.

His pen stilled in his hand. Then, with deliberate slowness, he lifted his head. His eyes locked onto mine, sharp and probing. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then his lips curved into a faint smirk.

My jaw clenched, but I forced my expression to remain blank. He went on, his tone calm, almost bored, as though we were discussing something ordinary. "And besides… I do not drink recklessly. Not anymore. I have what I need–blood from the hospitals. Fresh, clean. No need to waste."

The room was dark, lit by a few small candles. The air smelled of herbs… and sickness. My eyes went to the bed in the middle of the room. A woman lay there. Her skin was so pale it looked almost white. Her hair, silver like the moon, spread across the pillow. She looked weak–too weak–each breath coming slowly, as if it took all her strength just to stay alive.

The hallways were long and quiet as Frederick walked ahead of me. His steps were slow and steady, like he knew every corner of this place. I followed, my chest tight and my wolf restless inside me. We stopped at a tall wooden door with strange carvings on it. Frederick pushed it open, and I stepped inside behind him.

"My son," he said simply, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "He is three years old." The air seemed to drain out of the room. My chest tightened, my wolf stiffening inside me.

I froze for a second, my brows furrowing. "Your… mother?"

"What are you looking for?" Frederick asked suddenly. Though shock jolted me that he had caught me staring, I masked it with calm and slowly turned back to him. "I was checking if there’s any decaying body around," I replied smoothly, forcing a faint smirk. "Who knows… I might be the next victim."

"All I ask is tonight. Stay here, under my roof. Learn the walls you will one day walk as their mistress. Know me, as I know you." He tilted his head, his voice dropping into something softer. "That’s how it begins."

My brow furrowed. Felix? Who is Felix? And who is becoming his mother? I turned sharply toward Frederick, my arms folding across my chest. "Felix? Who is Felix?" I asked, my wolf growling with unease inside me.

The way he said it made my stomach twist, but I didn’t let him see my unease. I sat back in my chair, crossing my arms. Frederick sighed, closing the file. "I should take you to Mother… she is dying to meet you," he said while standing to his feet.

Olivia’s POV

My frown deepened. As promised? What does he mean by that?

Frederick gave me a fake smile before turning back to the scattered papers on his desk. His focus shifted instantly, pale hands gliding as he scribbled and signed, his eyes scanning documents as though I wasn’t even present. I stayed still, though my gaze wandered around the office.

The pale woman turned her head slowly in my direction, and when her eyes met mine, her face lit with a genuine smile. "Moon… she carries Hailee’s energy." Her voice was fragile but warm. I swallowed hard, at a loss for words. Her smile deepened. "Finally Felix will have a mother," she whispered.

"Your… son?" I echoed, my voice dropping low.

If his vessel was here, I had to find it. I had to search, to look into every shadow of this mansion. Because the moment I discovered it, Frederick’s power would no longer be untouchable.

My frown deepened. Just earlier I’d discovered he had a sister, and now a mother? My stomach twisted. I had thought his parents would have been long gone–buried centuries ago. "She is here?" I asked while also rising to my feet.

My wolf stiffened inside me, her hackles raised. Frederick leaned back in his chair, his fingers now lazily drumming against the desk again. "What makes you think we would kill you, Olivia? If she survived here under our roof, so will you."

"I’m not asking you to pack your things and move in, Olivia," he said smoothly, his eyes locked on mine. "Not yet. That day will come soon enough." His tone made my skin crawl, but he went on, calm and so sure of himself.

My wolf went quiet, uneasy. Frederick walked straight to her. And for the first time, his smirk faded. His face softened. He reached for her hand and touched it gently, like she was made of glass.

"Could it be here?" My wolf whispered inside me, "The vessel. It has to be somewhere close. Somewhere he trusts." I scanned the shelves behind him, lined with old books and strange jars. The carvings on the door. The tall chest in the corner with iron locks. My heart quickened.