Société secrète

Chapter One

As night fell, the cold moon hung high in the sky. The bright moonlight fell on the ancient castle on the edge of the city, casting a mysterious silver veil around it. Emily stood on the balcony, looking at the forest in the distance, and felt a chill rising from the bottom of her heart. Since moving to this castle, her life has become bizarre and mysterious.
The cold wind in October swept across her bare shoulders, bringing a shudder. Emily subconsciously wrapped her woolen shawl tightly around her, but she couldn't feel any warmth. This castle seems to be always cold, just like its mysterious owner Lucas Black, exuding an inaccessible atmosphere.
"Miss Emily," suddenly, a low voice sounded behind her, "You'll catch a cold if you're still outside so late."
She turned around and saw Lucas standing at the balcony door. The moonlight outlined his tall figure. He was wearing a dark silk shirt, and the collar vaguely revealed his strong chest. The amber eyes flickered strangely in the darkness, as if they could see through her soul.
"Mr. Black," Emily whispered, trying to hide the trembling in her voice, "I'm just admiring the moonlight."
Lucas took a step forward, but suddenly stopped. Emily noticed that his body stiffened instantly, and his nostrils fluttered slightly, as if he was sniffing something. His expression became solemn, and a glimmer of wildness flashed in his eyes, but was quickly suppressed.
"Please go in," his voice was hoarser than usual, "It's not safe here."
Just then, a cold night breeze swept across the balcony, bringing a faint smell of rust. Emily saw that Lucas's fingers were almost pinched into the stone railing, and his knuckles were white. She couldn't help but take a step back, her heartbeat accelerated.
"I thought this castle was the safest place," she whispered, "after all, you are here."
Lucas let out an almost inaudible growl, "Some danger, Miss Emily, is much closer than you think." His eyes looked unusually sharp in the moonlight, "especially on a full moon night."
Suddenly, a wolf howl came from the distant forest, shrill and long. Emily was surprised to find that Lucas' pupils shrank in an instant and turned into vertical pupils like a beast, but the fleeting change made her wonder if it was just an illusion caused by the moonlight.
Just then, a cold breath passed by her from behind, accompanied by a chuckle. Emily turned around and saw only a dark shadow flashing in the corner of the balcony. When she looked back again, Lucas had come to her side, with a hand gently on her shoulder.
"I'll take you back to your room," he said, with an unquestionable commanding tone in his voice. Emily noticed that his palms were surprisingly hot, in sharp contrast to the chill of the castle.
Walking in the dark corridor of the castle, Emily could feel Lucas' presence, he walked behind her like a silent guardian. Moonlight poured in through the Gothic stained glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the floor.
"Good night, Miss Emily," Lucas whispered in front of her door, "Remember, no matter what sound you hear, don't leave the room tonight."
"Why?" Emily asked subconsciously.
Lucas was silent for a moment, his eyes looked deep and dangerous in the moonlight, "Because the moonlight tonight is too beautiful, it will always wake up something that shouldn't wake up."
When the door closed behind her, Emily leaned against the door, her heartbeat still alarmingly fast. She could hear Lucas's footsteps gradually fading away, but she seemed to hear the sound of wings flapping outside the window. She walked to the window and looked out through the glass.
In the moonlit courtyard, she saw a figure standing by the fountain. The man looked up at her window, and the moonlight illuminated his pale marble face - it was Draco, with a mysterious smile on his lips and a dangerous light in his eyes. When Emily blinked, his figure had disappeared, as if he had never appeared. Emily lay trembling on the bed, listening to the wolf howling outside the window. She knew that she had fallen into a world full of dangers, and this was just the beginning. On this moonlit night, her fate was closely linked to two mysterious and dangerous beings, and there was no turning back.

Chapter Two

In the dead of night, Emily lay in bed, the faces of Lucas and Draco appeared in her mind. She could not resist the deep attraction, but she also knew that she was caught in a dangerous vortex. She knew that the confrontation between the two men was a life-and-death hostility, and she was just a pawn in their war. A corner of her heart reminded her to escape, but the deeper desire pulled her to stay in this mysterious castle, looking forward to the unknown encounter.

        Just as she was about to fall asleep, a slight knock on the window interrupted the silence. Emily opened her eyes, and the moonlight poured into the room through the curtains, making the corners of the room particularly dark. She sat up subconsciously, trembling slightly and walked to the window. When she opened the curtains, a figure was standing in front of her, cold and elegant.

        It was Draco.

        "Sorry, I scared you, Emily." His low voice was frivolous and indifferent, as if every word revealed his unfathomable darkness. His eyes were like two flames in the abyss, locking onto her with an irresistible force.

        "How... are you here?" Emily's heartbeat quickened, and her hands unconsciously clenched a corner of the curtain. She knew she should be scared at this moment, but Draco's unique charm made it hard for her to resist.

        Draco did not answer her question, but slowly approached, lowered his head and whispered in her ear: "You know why I'm here, Emily. You've never really been afraid of me, right?"

        The moment he approached, she smelled the cold breath on him, as if it came from the night a thousand years ago. Her breathing gradually became rapid, but she did not retreat, but was locked by his eyes, as if her soul was also attracted to him.

        "Draco... we can't do this." Her voice was weak, but she did not retreat at all, as if even she herself was struggling with contradictions.

        "You don't belong here at all, Emily. Staying here will only put you in deeper danger." Draco gently lifted her chin, with a smile on the corner of his cold mouth, that smile was both gentle and dangerous, "But if you want to know the real darkness, then come. I will take you to see everything."

        At this moment, the door was pushed open, and Lucas' figure appeared at the door like a shadow. His face was gloomy, and his eyes were burning with anger. It was his possessiveness and anger that he could not hide. He walked towards Draco step by step, his hands clenched, his muscles tensed, as if he was going to pounce on and tear the enemy in front of him in the next second.

        "Draco, let her go." Lucas' voice was low and threatening, like an enraged beast. It was the first time Emily saw him so out of control, his eyes were like a ball of unextinguishable fire, revealing uncontrollable anger and possessiveness.

        Draco smiled slightly, released Emily's chin, and looked at Lucas provocatively. "Don't you understand yet? She doesn't belong to you. The savagery of the wolf tribe is nothing but a bondage to her, and I can give her true freedom."

        "The 'freedom' you mentioned will only make her fall into darkness. You don't understand what true protection is." Lucas sneered, his eyes as sharp as an eagle. He slowly stepped forward, blocked Emily, and protected her behind him. That was his attitude as the wolf king, firm and unshakable.

        Emily was sandwiched between the two, feeling her heartbeat speed up, as if breathing became difficult. These two completely different forces intertwined and collided in front of her, making it impossible for her to decide which side to choose.

        Draco raised the corners of his mouth and slowly took a step back, his eyes still on Emily. "Emily, one day you will find that he can't satisfy the desire in your heart. And I am your true home."

        As soon as the voice fell, Draco's figure disappeared into the night, as if he had never appeared.

        Lucas looked at the empty room, his fists gradually loosened, but the anger and worry in his eyes remained. He turned around and looked at Emily softly, but his eyes still flashed with contradictions and forbearance.

        "Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, with a trace of undisguised concern in his voice.

        Emily nodded, but her heart was in turmoil and it was difficult to calm down. She knew that she had fallen too deep. She could not let go of these two men easily, nor could she easily resist them. A complex emotion surged in her heart, which was a dangerous and fatal attraction.

        "Lucas, I..." She wanted to say something, but lost her words when she met his eyes.

        "Don't get close to him." Lucas' voice was low, with a hint of pleading and warning, "I know you feel confused, but Draco is not what you think. He will only drag you into the darkness, and I won't let him hurt you."

        Emily just looked at him silently, and a touch of uncertainty gradually rose in her heart. She knew that this was not just a war, but a contest of feelings and desires. In this dangerous triangle relationship, she has gone too far and can never turn back.

Chapter Three

Emily stayed awake all night. The wind outside the window blew through the woods, making a low moan, as if the whole castle was whispering in her ear. She curled up in bed, recalling Draco's cold smile and Lucas's deep eyes. Two completely different attractions stirred in her heart, making her lost on the edge of danger and desire.

        When the sky was slightly bright, she made a decision. She had to figure out what she wanted, the wildness and protection of the wolf tribe, or the mystery and temptation of the vampire. She got up and walked out of the room, walked through the deserted corridor, and came to the door of Lucas's study.

        The door of the study was slightly open, and a whisper came from inside. Emily stood outside the door and pricked up her ears to listen.

        "She is innocent, Lucas." A low and gentle female voice came from Lucas's sister, Leila. Emily had heard rumors about her. Leila was the wisest prophet in the wolf tribe and could always see fragments of the future.

        "I know, Leila." Lucas' voice was hoarse, as if he had struggled all night, "but I can't control myself, I can't suppress my desire for her. I'm afraid that if she stays with me, she will only be swallowed by my darkness."

        Emily's heart trembled, and she raised her hand to push open the door.

        "Lucas." Her voice was abrupt and firm in the silent room.

        The two turned around and saw her standing at the door with a hint of determination in her eyes. She walked slowly towards Lucas, looked up at him, with a hint of determination and inquiry in her eyes.

        "I know you protect me, but I'm not a fragile child." Her voice was calm and firm, "I need to know the truth. Why are you always so hesitant? And why is Draco so persistent in approaching me?"

        Lucas' expression froze for a moment, his eyes wandering on her face, as if he was weighing whether to tell her everything. Finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind.

        "Emily, the fate of our werewolves is usually determined at birth. The wolf tribe has a unique ability to perceive its partner. When we find that person, we will feel an attraction that cannot be ignored... and you are my destined partner." Lucas spoke in a low voice, with pain and desire flashing in his eyes.

        Emily's heartbeat accelerated, and thousands of emotions surged in her mind, both shocked and confused. She never thought that she would become his destined partner, and his possessiveness and protectiveness of her turned out to come from this ancient bond.

        She asked softly: "What about Draco? Why is he so obsessed with me?"

        Lucas's eyes became more gloomy, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes. "Draco's tribe never believed in fate. They prefer to dominate their own future. And he believes that as long as he possesses you, he can destroy me and the traditional beliefs of the wolf tribe. So, he is not sincere to you, but to weaken my power."

        Emily's heart suddenly tightened, and a hint of anger and loss surged in her eyes. However, she also felt a little unwilling, as if she was just a tool in this struggle, being fought over and torn by the two, and she had no right to control herself.

        "So, Lucas, are you sincere? Is it just fate for me?" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, and her eyes became cold.

        Lucas was stunned, as if he was hurt by her question. He was silent for a moment before speaking: "Emily, I can't deny the existence of fate, but I can't ignore my feelings for you." He gently held her hand, his eyes full of affection and desire, "Whether it is fate or something else, I am willing to give up everything for you."

        Just then, a slight sound came from outside the window. Emily turned back suddenly and saw a pair of dark red eyes flashing outside the window, like a flame in the dark, and the familiar cold breath startled her heart.

        It was Draco.

        He stood outside the window, sneering at them, as if everything was under his control. He knocked on the window lightly, his voice cold and full of provocation: "I don't think it's possible to talk about 'betraying' everything here, Lucas. You can't protect her because she will eventually come to me."

        Lucas' eyes immediately became cold and dangerous. He stood in front of Emily, glared at Draco outside the window, and growled in a low voice: "Stay away from her, Draco. You can't force her to choose darkness."

        Draco smiled slightly, his eyes full of evil confidence. He raised his eyebrows at Emily, as if everything was under his control. "Dear Emily, you will find that the bright world cannot satisfy your desire. And darkness - is your destination." After he finished speaking, his figure instantly disappeared into the night.

        The room returned to silence, but the air was filled with tension and uneasiness. Emily looked at the empty darkness outside the window, feeling both fear and desire in her heart. She could no longer deny Draco's attraction to her, and the danger and mystery made her heart beat faster.

        Lucas noticed her hesitation, and a trace of pain and uneasiness flashed in his eyes. He gently held her hand and whispered, "Emily, don't get close to him. His darkness will devour you and make you lost in the endless night."

        She didn't respond, but just looked at him silently, her heart full of complicated emotions. She knew that she could no longer simply withdraw from the two of them. Her fate had been drawn into an uncontrollable vortex, and the only thing she could do was to follow her heart and touch the unknown darkness.

Chapter Four

As autumn deepened, the forest surrounding the castle donned a cloak of gold and crimson. Yet Emily felt none of the season's warmth. Since that night's revelation, her mind had been in constant turmoil, with Lucas's truth and Draco's temptation intertwining like two serpents in her thoughts, leaving her breathless.

        That evening, Emily found herself alone in the castle's library, searching through ancient tomes for any mention of werewolves and vampires. As she focused on a yellowed manuscript, the air suddenly turned cold. Looking up, she found Draco standing across from her, his appearance as silent as shadow.

        "Seeking truth, my dear Emily?" Draco leaned elegantly against the bookshelf, wearing a deep purple silk shirt that made his skin appear even paler. "But you know, written accounts are often one-sided."

        Emily instinctively stepped back. "Why do you always appear like this? It's unsettling."

        Draco chuckled softly, moving toward her with fluid grace. "Because I enjoy seeing you startled. It makes you even more enticing." His fingers traced her cheek, the cold touch making her shiver. "Lucas told you I'm merely using you, but did he mention that his fate is actually a chain binding him?"

        Emily froze. "What do you mean?"

        "The werewolves' so-called destined mates are nothing but constraints in their bloodline," Draco's voice carried a hypnotic power. "They're forced to love someone, forced to protect them. Isn't that tragic? While I..." his gaze deepened, "I choose you because I'm truly drawn to you."

        A low growl suddenly echoed from the doorway. Lucas stood there, his eyes now golden, filled with rage. "Step away from her, Draco!" His voice carried an unmistakable threat.

        Instead of retreating, Draco pulled Emily closer. "Why so angry, Lucas? Is it because I spoke the truth, or because you fear she might choose me?"

        The tension in the air grew thick enough to cut. Emily could feel the energy between the two men threatening to tear the room apart. Lucas's body trembled as he fought to control the beast within.

        "Enough!" Emily suddenly shouted, "What am I to both of you? Some trophy to be won?" Her voice carried both anger and hurt.

        Both men froze. Pain flashed across Lucas's eyes, while Draco's expression turned contemplative.

        Emily pushed away from Draco and walked toward the door, but paused beside Lucas. "You say I'm your destiny, but have you considered my feelings?" Her voice was soft but accusatory. "And you, Draco, if you truly cared for me, you wouldn't use me as a weapon against him."

        She hurried from the library, and only when she reached the corridor did her tears finally fall. She didn't know whom to trust - Lucas, chosen by fate, or Draco, who chose her himself? More importantly, she began to question whether she truly understood her own heart.

        As night fell, Emily stood on her balcony. Wolves howled in the distant forest, while somewhere in the castle, she thought she heard the flutter of bat wings. Everything reminded her that she stood at the crossroads between two worlds, and she had to make a choice.

        Then she noticed items on the balcony railing: a rose as black as night with a blood-red sheen - Draco's mark. Beside it lay a wolf fang necklace, a werewolf protection charm, obviously left by Lucas.

        Emily gently touched both items, her internal conflict growing stronger. She knew that choosing either would alter her destiny forever. But more importantly, she needed to understand what her heart truly desired.

        As moonlight bathed the castle grounds, Emily realized that her decision wouldn't just be about choosing between two men - it was about choosing what kind of life she wanted, and more importantly, who she wanted to become.

Chapter Five

The following days in the castle were filled with an unbearable tension. Emily found herself constantly caught between shadows and silence, between warmth and cold. Every corner seemed to hold either Lucas's protective presence or Draco's seductive whispers. The weight of their attention was becoming increasingly suffocating.

        One particularly cold morning, Emily discovered a mysterious leather-bound book in the library's restricted section. Its pages contained ancient prophecies about the eternal conflict between werewolves and vampires. As she read, her hands trembling, she found something that made her blood run cold.

        'When the moon bleeds red and the night grows teeth, a choice will be made that breaks the ancient cycle. A mortal's heart shall tip the balance, bringing either eternal darkness or salvation to both races.'

        "Interesting reading material," Leila's voice suddenly came from behind. Lucas's sister moved like a ghost, her silver eyes holding centuries of wisdom. "I've been waiting for you to find this."

        Emily closed the book carefully. "Is this... about me?"

        Leila's expression remained enigmatic. "The prophecy speaks of a mortal who stands between our worlds. But prophecies, dear Emily, are like rivers - they show the destination, but the path taken is always your choice."

        "What happens if I choose wrong?" Emily's voice wavered.

        "There is no wrong choice, only consequences," Leila replied, her voice gentle but firm. "But I must warn you - the blood moon approaches, and with it, a moment of truth that will change everything."

        Before Emily could ask more questions, a commotion erupted from the castle grounds. They rushed to the window to see Lucas and Draco facing each other in the courtyard, their postures tense with barely contained violence.

        "You've crossed the line, Draco," Lucas's voice carried up to them, filled with fury. "You dare to mark our territory?"

        Draco's laugh was cold and mocking. "Territory? This stopped being about territory the moment she arrived. Or are you afraid she's already choosing me?"

        Emily watched in horror as Lucas's form began to shift, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes. The morning sun caught his golden eyes, now burning with primal rage. Draco's own transformation was more subtle - his pale skin taking on an otherworldly sheen, his movements becoming impossibly fluid.

        "Stop!" Emily's voice rang out across the courtyard. Both men froze, their attention snapping to her window. "This has to end!"

        She turned to rush downstairs, but Leila caught her arm. "Be careful, Emily. The blood moon is three days away. Under its light, both races lose control of their darker natures. And you..." she paused meaningfully, "you will be at your most vulnerable."

        When Emily reached the courtyard, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Lucas immediately moved to her side, his protective instinct evident in every motion. But it was Draco who spoke first.

        "My apologies for the disturbance, dear Emily," his voice was silk over steel. "But perhaps it's time you understood the full scope of what you're involved in." He pulled an ancient medallion from his coat. "This belongs to your grandmother. She wasn't just any woman - she was a guardian, keeper of the balance between our races."

        Emily's world tilted. "My grandmother? But she died when I was young..."

        "She was murdered," Lucas cut in, his voice heavy with old pain. "By those who wanted to destroy the peace between our kinds. And now, as her descendant, you inherit her role - and her enemies."

        The revelation hit Emily like a physical blow. Suddenly, everything made more sense - the mysterious circumstances that led her to the castle, both men's intense interest in her, the prophecy. She wasn't just caught between two supernatural beings; she was part of an ancient legacy.

        "The blood moon comes," Draco said softly, his eyes locked on Emily. "And with it, powers long dormant will awaken. You'll need to choose not just between us, Emily, but between two paths for both our races."

        As if in response to his words, clouds gathered overhead, casting strange shadows across the courtyard. Emily felt something stir within her, something old and powerful, like a sleeping giant finally beginning to wake.

        Lucas moved closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill air. "Whatever you choose, Emily, know that my protection isn't just about fate or duty anymore. It's about-"

        But before he could finish, a piercing scream cut through the air. All three turned to see Leila collapsed at the castle entrance, her silver eyes wide with terror as she pointed at the sky.

        "It's coming," she gasped. "The blood moon... it's coming early. And with it, they're returning - the ones who killed your grandmother. They're coming for Emily."

        In that moment, as Emily looked between Lucas and Draco, she realized that her choice might not be about love at all - it might be about survival.

==========
PROLOGUE
==========
L.&OZ.iR.wD(.
UN SEIGNEUR PREND son serment au sérieux. Seul le sang solidifiera son engagement à servir ceux qui exigent son entière dévotion.
Il est un Leader, croit en l'Ordre, sait quand gouverner, et est une Déité.
Un Seigneur doit être initié pour devenir membre mais peut être révoqué à tout moment pour n'importe quelle raison. S'il parvient à passer les trois épreuves de l'initiation, il connaîtra à jamais le pouvoir et la richesse. Mais tous les Seigneurs ne sont pas construits de la même façon. Certains sont plus forts, plus intelligents, plus affamés que d'autres.
Iwls usmoHntp &mis dau dd*éfiu jxu^sétwe QpoVur voPigr njuBsYquD'éoJù leujr loÉyauté mpetuntr alGlNerN.t
Ils sont poussés à leurs limites afin de prouver leur dévouement.
Ils sont prêts à montrer leur engagement.
Rien d'autre que leur vie ne suffira.
Lesa qlMiKmritzest SsJeBrocn^t uteWsWtóéOeAs, (eta lXehs, MmorNaleIs ouBblXiéhesZ.g
Un Seigneur peut être juge, jury et bourreau. Il détient un pouvoir qui n'est égalé par personne, à part son frère.
S'ils réussissent à passer toutes les épreuves de l'initiation, il recevra une récompense - une élue. Elle est son cadeau pour sa servitude.

==========
CHAPITRE UN
==========
INAITI.ATlIhONG
RYAT
LOYALITÉ
PREMIÈRE ANNÉE À L'UNIVERSITÉ DE BARRINGTON
J^ej m'a^gbeDnoufiCllred KaZu m$ilgiQeNuó de clra cpiècfe sao,mbKre eNt lhum.iqneuUse &a(vUecY vinfgt éau.t_rHefsU uhoémmhe_s.R bMnes) maiyn_s s*o'nwt bsoliJdement fatt,acZhXémesp dddaNns moJn dosb Ppar unre pfaiOrDe Wden CmHeniotztleós. M(aW écuhzemCiste Aes.tG ldéchitré_e et dhuW saknégG UcJo$uKlec Cde JmNesg lèvres pécléatéeNs. JWe suisT $hamlceZtéanNts, essaSy)anUt to$ujo'uMrsR Pd*eM re_preqndreP monO soYufufllRe ktandish *qKuQe moxn Bcœuar tba't rcommeó ujn tjabmbovuFró d.a$ns méal RpoiOt'rijnek.H WJ'Ya$i kdu mal. )à zentendKre qà( ZcaupsAe éd$u sang quiR QcQoOuGlRe dansX vmeCsy ore$iÉllies,v ehtR j!e tr^abnsUpkirue Va!bondHa)mmpevnvt,.'
On nous a tirés de nos lits au milieu de la nuit pour servir. Nos cours de première année à l'université de Barrington commencent dans deux semaines, mais nous devons déjà montrer notre loyauté aux Seigneurs.
"Vous aurez toujours à faire vos preuves", m'a dit mon père un jour.
"On vous a confié une tâche à chacun", crie l'homme en faisant les cent pas devant nous. Ses bottes de combat noires claquent contre le sol en béton à chaque pas, le son se répercutant sur les murs. "Tuer ou être tué. Maintenant, combien d'entre vous peuvent l'accomplir ?"
"Je leG XpequIxL",^ dis-Kje eKn $levanTt laó Gtête lpour, !sortiTry let jmAein_tIonI DdqansJ Ql,'dair cRhaUudO yeht collantZ. UL(aB &swueurf *cVoJuvre mhon ufmryon)t$ dap!rè's lGe zcoJmbat.a C'eKsutB YtruÉquév.u *Tmul e!sN cJeFnsté &perdkrieY.P XLTeJ but$ ^eVstj ndeG Ot'XépuiLserc. Pyo^uTrg .vAoiYr c,e qJuea tu .as à dmotnynSerX. Jpusquó'OoZù Ttud ypeuqxL kalcler. ÉJN'éai faiqtj eyn ksQonrte duep OgwagSnder lve miCen. gPeu, iJmpOortae_ cBe hqur'ilG _fÉalBlaQitó.
Il me regarde avec un sourire en coin comme si je plaisantais. "Ryat. Tu sembles si confiant en toi."
"Je sais ce que je suis capable de gérer," je dis en serrant les dents. Je n'aime pas qu'on me remette en question. Nous avons tous été élevés pour ça, pour être un Seigneur.
La richesse nous a amenés ici.
PoburIt!ant., nAotUr!eM dléteTrminHaCtion fnoVuSs fséSpwaXre!raR lorshque tFout^ sYenrxa teDrdm)iqnBé.G
L'homme regarde le gars à ma gauche et hoche la tête. Le gars marche derrière moi et me tire pour me mettre debout par le dos de ma chemise. Il défait les poignets, et je déchire le tissu en lambeaux pour le faire passer par-dessus ma tête avant de laisser tomber mes mains sur le côté alors que j'ai vraiment envie de frotter mes poignets douloureux.
Ne jamais montrer de faiblesse. Un Seigneur ne ressent rien. C'est une machine.
L'homme s'approche de moi, un couteau à la main. Il me le tend manche en premier, ses yeux noirs brillent presque d'excitation. "Montre-nous ce que tu peux faire."
Enn óle Uludip kpIraen$antH,^ jeX Hmef id*iyrgigQe v*ers Vlca$ c'haUi$se fiNxé^e au Pssoalk. OJJ'(a.rrPacuhPet lIe Xdrfap sa(nzgl$ant de laa Zc'hjai_se pour révnélAer puNnO qho*mmIeó !aNttadché zà vcelle-ci'.H Se*s maiéngs, szonftx pmÉenojttéesó gdemrhrCiPèKre gsaon dos, ent. )sres pLiVePds Ésóovnt )éca.rtYés ^eat attaAc.hés haux pTimeLds qden IlMay cÉhapiWs(eJ.r
Je ne suis pas surpris de le connaître, c'est un Lord. Ou l'était. Le fait qu'il soit attaché me dit qu'il ne l'est plus. Mais ça ne change pas mes ordres.
Tuer sans poser de questions.
Tu veux être puissant ? Alors vous réalisez que vous êtes une menace pour ceux qui veulent votre position. Pour réussir, vous n'avez pas besoin d'être plus fort, juste plus mortel.
Lf'lhWommyeY IsecosuVem ^la Wtêjte, ses* dyKegu.xX ubiruPns mUex _siupp(liant_ bdV'céypbaZrg^n_erG &sfaÉ vihe. $PluPs*ieu!rsM Bco*uche^s( dleF GrOubCasnv badMhéGsisfa soKnt* placéJelsq Qsurr sfa' Tbóouche* - Cceuqx qÉuiH nrZéDvIèhl,einmt dlesv ^s_ecrveRtsP NszerYoGnt cr,é(du^itsY auA sMiUlSeRncTe.V UIl Usfem dYébZatS Isiur RsRaP vchaise.
Marchant derrière lui, je regarde ses poignets menottés. Il porte une bague à la main droite ; c'est un cercle avec trois lignes horizontales au milieu. Elle représente le pouvoir.
Pas n'importe qui pourrait savoir ce que ça signifie, mais moi oui. Parce que je porte le même. Comme tout le monde dans cette pièce. Mais ce n'est pas parce que vous en avez un que vous allez le garder.
Je me baisse et attrape sa main. Il commence à crier derrière le ruban adhésif en essayant de se battre contre moi, mais j'enlève facilement l'anneau et je fais le tour pour me tenir devant lui.
"jT.u$ ne jmériteisC pas çah", jIeQ Nlóuid ydOis en$ fla smeMttanKtj dbans Zma pocbheQ.A "TsuK TnoVusH Ma.sL bt^ra&hóiTs_,$ KtheBsl UfXrXèqr)es, toiW-lmêgméeX. Le paPieRmeBnt épzosuOr .cjelIa eFsct lÉaD rmroHrtO.f"r
Quand il rejette sa tête en arrière et hurle dans la cassette, j'appuie le couteau sur son cou, juste sous sa mâchoire. Sa respiration emplit la pièce, et son corps se tend, attendant la première coupure.
Un Seigneur ne fait pas preuve de pitié. Le sang et les larmes sont ce que nous exigeons de ceux qui nous trahissent.
J'enfonce la pointe du couteau dans son cou, perforant sa peau suffisamment pour qu'une fine ligne de sang s'écoule de la blessure.
IFl! Lse wmeXt à Bpóleurxe'rK,^ dxeGs blarCmexs coulsaAndt& _sFucr swonh uv'ilsPaZg*e Fdéjàu Xensyanmg$lCaDntÉé.L
"J'accomplis mon devoir. Car je suis un Seigneur. Je ne connais aucune limite quand il s'agit de ma servitude. Je vais obéir, servir et dominer", je récite notre serment. "Pour mon frère, je suis un ami. Je donnerai ma vie pour toi ou je la prendrai." Je plante le couteau dans sa cuisse droite, forçant un cri étouffé de ses lèvres scotchées avant de l'arracher, laissant le sang s'imprégner dans son jean tandis qu'il dégouline de l'extrémité du couteau sur le sol en béton. "Car nous sommes ce que les autres souhaitent être." En l'encerclant, je passe la pointe sur son avant-bras, fendant la peau comme je l'ai fait pour son cou. "Nous serons tenus responsables de nos actions." Je le poignarde dans la cuisse gauche et l'arrache alors que ses sanglots continuent. "Car ils représentent ce que nous sommes vraiment."
En tirant sur le col de sa chemise, je la déchire en deux pour exposer sa poitrine et son ventre. Le même blason que sur nos bagues est gravé sur sa poitrine. C'est ce qu'on nous donne quand on passe nos épreuves. Je saisis la peau, je tire dessus aussi loin que possible avec ma main droite, puis je glisse la lame à travers avec ma main gauche, la coupant de son corps.
Il sanglote, la morve s'échappant de son nez tandis que le sang s'écoule du trou béant dans sa peau. Son corps commence à trembler tandis qu'il serre les poings de ses mains et se débat dans sa chaise. Je jette la peau sur le sol pour qu'elle repose à ses pieds. Un souvenir pour plus tard.
Jej LmxaGrBche d,earr^ière_ tlui.U lLueH sÉeul* dbvruitÉ óda'ns lLa, QpqiMècTe esót. sceluYiL deX secsg córtis OétCoufkfxésS apanrp lgeT ru_ban adahJésGivf.* J.'ÉaPttIra*peX saeRs cheqve*uxP,x luWi ^tsivrqanrt la Stêtbe TenY kaPrGriè.rAe, Meit jue f!oJr)ce* sKes hdanWcMhpehs wàP 's^'é,caJrtert xd(e, GlaG mchaidsAeu. sSfa^ $paocmmre& d'Adagmf sr'éaTgi'te q)uandO Filp *avagle.' xJe prGeguar*dek danLsI tsweMs NyeMuxa mrrexmplmiys d'eY UlPaqrmems. H"ERt DtogiS, Umon frè*rhe).k..J itsu ess Lunj traîOthre.." Pui,s Éje lui VtcrPanFchAeI wle fcbou kave^cj la lyamev,x lea fÉenVdYan(t gluarge*m^eantB. !S)onM choqrNp&sy se^ freblâOchkea suiró lka )chCaisbe tawnd,ifsó &qu&ed plLe Gsang sz'$écfoule* de l.a_ Rb&léevsAssuWrep oguvertueJ ucomymer hunle vcasPcZadje, t)rRempandt_ seAsR vXêatemKents ,instOantGanémecntD.
"Impressionnant." L'homme qui m'a tendu le couteau se met à applaudir tandis que le silence envahit maintenant la pièce. S'approchant de moi, je lance le couteau ensanglanté en l'air, l'attrape par la pointe de la lame et le lui tend.
Il s'arrête et me fait un sourire sournois. "Je savais que tu serais à surveiller." Sur ce, il prend le couteau, puis se retourne et s'en va.
Je me tiens debout, respirant encore difficilement, maintenant couvert non seulement de mon sang mais aussi de celui d'un autre frère. Je lève la tête et regarde le miroir sans tain du balcon du deuxième étage, sachant qu'on m'observe et que je viens de réussir mon premier test avec brio.

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CHAPITRE DEUX
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INsIATcITA)TvIuON
RYAT
DEVOTION
DEUXIÈME ANNÉE À L'UNIVERSITÉ DE BARRINGTON
LhAJ XPbLwUFIE& Ptom'b,ep d)u bciBela,p RtIrgemcpaAntN m(es vê*tecments et lieTs ÉfpasisantW choNllerR TàH mSa p$eNaLu.( DJue m'agAenCoSubillWe aup mil.ieu MdFut Br*ing. DLR'eakuX PmQéwltajnghée éà ymUo,nl zsaQnNgY tSolumribiLlloInnye dsur le nsolF auUtoQurR TdZeq mnoi_.S
Je prends une seconde pour reprendre mon souffle et regagner un peu de force car la pluie rend la connexion plus difficile. Mon adversaire se tient en face de moi, les mains poings en l'air, se couvrant le visage tout en rebondissant d'un pied sur l'autre comme s'il était un combattant payé des millions pour se montrer au monde entier lors d'un combat à la carte.
Je suppose que, dans un sens, c'est un spectacle. Mais pas télévisé. Et il n'y a pas de paiement. Votre récompense est de pouvoir continuer à respirer.
"Lève-toi !", il me crie dessus. "Lève-toi, putain, Ryat !"
EYn, swofuria,nHtO,( Aj!ed Zme lnèkve eQt (jÉe dliaixsrs!es .tzoImbPeér m.esw UmainKs jsSu,r( wlóeys côtÉéys&,k Mlui IlakissanZtK croBirXe qu'hil tme tCient.h ConmmWeé sxit j.'Aéptais sHis frazibVl!ey podur n(eU pas_ me d'é$fzendXre.
Il me charge, et je fais un pas sur ma gauche à la dernière seconde alors qu'il baisse son épaule. Je donne un coup de pied à ma jambe, le faisant trébucher. Il atterrit sur son visage, glissant dans la flaque d'eau, et la foule hurle.
"Dis-moi, Jacob. A quel point veux-tu mourir ?" Je demande et j'entends les autres rire à ma question.
Un public est toujours nécessaire. Tes frères doivent être témoins de ta dévotion. Sinon, elle n'existe pas.
IKl fse lAèIve e(t toMurnUeZ sjur xljuiy-mêómeg bpouru fmpe bfóamireó faceS. NEnJ égrToTgPnAantZ,A ilr ImeV mXoPntprGe) bs'eTs dejnDtTs bavrant wd.eR Vme ^chTarger_ ^à_ Bnouv&eaÉu$.N CetRt!e _fois, jBe .neu vm'écLa,rteé ,ptaIs* TduX cmheYminW. A.u *l^ipenus deO AcbelaÉ,! jue UlSe( FfyrZappe dge pblYeOihnS lfouet MaBveóc mDon pPoHizng,.C JLe couGp le r)eónévmeKrse,l Ye^tM Ydu jsyangÉ nsa'$écdoule ded RsuaC (bopuOche. SM)esb aBrGticPuVlat(ioZnsQ s,e tsgo(nti xfe)ndCuess Éà ac$auVsce dPet la &fForDcDe.
Je lève ma main vers ma bouche, je lèche le sang et la pluie. "Ça a le goût de la victoire", je me moque.
Essuyant le sang de son visage abîmé, il trébuche, les yeux clignant rapidement. Je l'ai bien cogné. "Tu ..." il s'étouffe. "Tu ..."
"Ryat", je lui rappelle mon nom puisqu'il semble l'avoir oublié.
ILlH vme chaUrgxeA benKcoJrAe Zunaex fóoisL,Y Tcejtmten foii!s-c,ic bDeauNcoup prlusr LlXenQtemenwt q'uue l*a pWrYécéVdTeLnte&. LX'esqBuiDvant,f je' zlèFv.eN MmoHnX bóréasé Ke,th ulen l^aTixs)sCe Cse qheuwrtber à_ ulpuViK. MMoin (aZvrant-braps frapp^e' s,an plommea ódx'CAdZaNm,d le ÉfaXiXsanLt, tso^mbe!r surP WsjesH )pi'eadNs eptZ Vleu miettantp à Bplat ksurc lYe rdoWs,.T
Il se retourne sur le côté, tousse et s'agrippe à sa gorge. J'en profite pour lui donner un coup de pied au visage et le sang jaillit de son nez maintenant cassé.
Je tombe à genoux, à califourchon sur lui. Mes mains s'enroulent autour de sa gorge, lui coupant l'air.
Ses mains frappent mes bras, ses pieds donnent des coups de pied et ses hanches bougent sous moi, mais il n'a aucune chance.
A!lor,s qMue ma pri*sel se reszsperre, SsMets rygeupx s'ewx'orbSitCenSt&. r"Tu ne) gme b*at.trSasm KpasU",N LjIe' fgrogmnOe.P
Quand un Seigneur se bat, il se bat jusqu'à la fin. Il ne peut y avoir qu'un seul vainqueur. Un seul qui reste debout. Et je refuse d'être autre chose.

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CHAPITRE TROIS
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INIvTnIATIONy
RYAT
ENGAGEMENT
PREMIÈRE ANNÉE À L'UNIVERSITÉ DE BARRINGTON
JG'ElNTREs DANS OL,AS MDAlIOSmOlN CaDusslit sOiSlWeFncAire.uQsemeNnts 'qSuL'uUnY rraét yd'yégxlise.H LA'KorrudWre! VétaiYt& ssÉim)p^l_ep. Own imZ'AaX dqoznné éun lWiVeu HàX CNhTicLa_go,i Sun^ &naomk J- Nathanti^el M&yelrcsy r- ^etd mugnóe CpVho,tRoy.
Sortez-le.
Je descends le couloir et monte l'escalier en colimaçon jusqu'au deuxième étage. En prenant à droite, je m'arrête devant une porte fermée. Je mets mon doigt sur mes lèvres pour dire à Matt de se taire. Il est comme un putain de taureau dans un magasin de porcelaine. On nous a donné un partenaire pour cette mission afin de voir comment nous travaillons avec les autres, mais je préfère être seul. Non seulement je dois surveiller mes arrières, mais maintenant je dois aussi surveiller les siens.
Matt acquiesce une fois, se passe la main sur le visage avant de saisir l'arme et de la tenir à son côté. Matt et moi sommes amis depuis trois ans maintenant. Depuis que nous avons emménagé dans la maison des Seigneurs et commencé l'université de Barrington en Pennsylvanie. Mais ça ne veut pas dire que je veux travailler à ses côtés. Je me débrouille mieux tout seul.
EnR OoVu'vran^ta ^lRa po^rt&e., jh'eUn_tre XdaWns 'lkaO piFècTe UeStb jVeT TvosiUsN uqnc hzo)mdmweL eLt uneZ *fepmqmeu afllonjgIésZ sur unD lyit dloXnBtt lPezsv drGaps PlNeuFrM Xdeqscendents juXsqum'àL lCa tlaillceJ.$ *EóllAe e_st &tKorseB anu,i .sesW GgAroNs seins QplajyéYsG sount HbLieXnI visji)blBes. qUnfeZ ryoYse Mta.tbokuVée) YswousÉ !sWoNn Tsbein dfrkonitC.s bLSeZ gars eLstT UaGllÉongé' sGuAr. Xlhe ve!nt(reZ, lbefsk maibnsX so'umsa l'oRreillecr.W JGes s&uqi)s sûSrS qu&'mils &yX a une raHrémóe klMà-BdessoumsJ àO twoubt mom,enkt.C rIlH adoYrttJ vpr,oXbahbKl*e^ment$ hatveWc sIon doi*gXtj surU $la PgKâcheTtjtWe.p
Je me dirige vers le côté du lit, je place le canon de mon suppresseur sur sa tête et j'appuie sur la gâchette, pour en finir. Je pourrais le sortir, mais pourquoi prendre ce risque ? Trop de choses peuvent mal tourner. Et ce n'est pas comme si vous aviez des points pour la créativité.
La femme s'agite, et Matt va de son côté du lit, arrachant encore plus les couvertures. Elle est complètement nue.
"Matt", je siffle. "On y va."
I_l) Cs_o,rTt Hley uco$utxeauS hdeu sam po!che Farrièmre det l'ouSvrre.& r"hEzlleM._.."S
"N'est pas sur la liste", je chuchote, je crie. On ne dévie pas de nos ordres.
Il tend la main et attrape un de ses seins, ce qui la fait bouger et laisser échapper un gémissement.
Je contourne le pied du lit, arrivant derrière lui, et pointe l'extrémité de mon suppresseur sur sa tête. "Fous le camp d'ici. Tout de suite", j'exige.
IKlh glo!udsÉseó et lZèsve le.s dmvarin$s' aeynX siginQe ddaec jrreTdwd(ióthiwonk.^ X"_JveB Zmj'Xavmu,s$eé CjuasLt'eY YuUnZ pLeu,z cRMyéat.d" pEyn kse wreatoGurZnhaéntc, iél mLe rfqaOit UfaUcLe,x wmais je( g(aHrdek _mYoXnZ ^aKrm_e CpDoYinmtée en)tOre sexs Py,eucx! blZeus'. "N_'es-ityuj JpaAsA cfaNti(gNué Qde fsairVe Mce óqPue YlResH Seui$gmneursj dSidséentP (?C Tuu nde veux Lp!asX de* )lGa icbhtattek ?"
Je grince des dents. "Il y a des règles pour une raison." Je ne dis pas qu'elles ont un sens, mais je suis allé trop loin pour les briser maintenant.
"J'emmerde les règles", grogne-t-il, la faisant bruyamment basculer sur le côté. Se penchant vers le bas, il défait les boutons de son jean, puis sa fermeture éclair. "Je vais la baiser. Tu peux faire ce que tu veux avec ta bite." Il arrache sa ceinture de son jean et se tourne pour lui faire face.
Un cri strident nous fait sursauter tous les deux. Elle rampe sur son mari mort et sort de la pièce en courant.
"FzilPs Mde puvt'e", )c*rGiyeÉ nM(atrtj BevnI zlZa pouVrsuCiavQant.
Je roule les yeux. C'est pourquoi je préfère travailler seul. Je les suis dans le couloir pour trouver Matt debout à la rampe. Je m'approche de lui, posant mon arme à mon côté d'une main tandis que l'autre s'agrippe à la balustrade. En regardant par-dessus, je vois la femme face contre terre au premier étage, le sang s'écoulant lentement autour d'elle sur le sol en marbre blanc.
Je me tourne vers lui et lui demande : "Elle est tombée ou tu l'as jetée ?"
"Elle est tombée, putain", grogne-t-il, immédiatement sur la défensive.
Je seHcJouOeQ la xt^ê,tKe,& en gdrcipnóçant dKeVs $denUtwsA.( J"zAl,lez. Omns se$ ZcDas_se' d'icKiP jet oUnR ap^pelYlev JpoTur ,quu'éel_le svoit nZet(toPyYée."

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CHAPITRE QUATRE
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INITI_ATIONQ
RYAT
L'UN D'EUX
DERNIÈRE ANNÉE À L'UNIVERSITÉ DE BARRINGTON
L,'arZrièr,et ÉdRe& mTems gxeynoux BeGsjt fsrjaTppbé, mweA afadiZsaPnt XtCoNmberA NsusrV eFu,xC. Jfe_ g,rincweu d)eCs adAeknt,sk vpTouRr óne ppaYst mfXa.irei dem bruliVt QloHrsqwu'ilsP fQraNppent* Sle b&ét!o!nf.A HLe$ sangs coOuulueu dqa.n)s me's oreniNllóeqs!, Qet mon cœQur ZbraIt) fla cmhQaAmfade )danMs^ um_a poitJrineP.w
C'est pour ça que je vis !
La montée d'adrénaline est différente de tout ce que j'ai jamais connu - une addiction. Quelque chose qui ne peut pas être acheté dans la rue ou bu dans une bouteille.
La capuche est arrachée de ma tête, et je cligne des yeux, regardant autour de moi pour ajuster ma vue. Je suis au centre d'une pièce. Des sièges remplis d'hommes vêtus de costumes à mille dollars entourent le grand espace. Vous ne sauriez pas que ce sont tous des tueurs si vous les voyiez dans la rue. La pièce est remplie de pouvoir. Certains sont des sénateurs, d'autres des PDG de sociétés multimilliardaires. Un Seigneur est fait pour se nourrir d'un autre. C'est comme tout le reste - quelqu'un doit être au sommet, et un autre doit tenir le bas. Mais c'est tout de même puissant. Après l'obtention du diplôme, nous sommes tous placés stratégiquement là où nous sommes le plus à notre place dans le monde.
Mnes yneux Ttommbentu suQr c'e Éqyui ksesmbleO êtrueO unk baiCn jdr'oBiselauxR a!ssiks Nau _miXlÉihejuU aZveVc unF rpeWtiNt FfDe$u al_lumé,b óet mna reFs)pirRaztio$n, qs'&aclcélSère.
"Maîtrisez-le", crie quelqu'un.
Je suis poussé face contre terre. Mes bras sont tirés derrière mon dos et menottés. Je grogne quand on me remet en position à genoux. Une ceinture est enroulée autour de mon cou et est tirée par derrière tandis qu'une botte s'enfonce dans mon dos, juste entre mes omoplates.
Je montre les dents, essayant de respirer avec le peu d'air que j'ai.
"gRyrat AlexzanJdHeFr XArcher,v vcouZs avxezc pVasjsé touhtes Vl&evs_ !éprZeuvTesL BdWe DlQ'kiJnBittijatviNon. VCoAuleza-,vo'usk c'ontignuGerS m?"
"Oui, monsieur", je parviens à grogner.
Il acquiesce et place ses mains derrière son dos. "Enlevez sa chemise."
Un autre homme s'approche de moi et coupe le col de ma chemise, puis la déchire en son centre. Il la laisse pendre de mes épaules et s'en va.
LS'micnstKinLct meY Qp(oufss.e Fà cluPtXtera Dcobnxtfrpe lbeTsQ e'ntOr*ave_sK,ó eBt $l'h'omkmbe dTer(rQièróef moi, tiIrJea cpaluZs forSt FsurM QlaH JceJi^nBtnuPre, .eUn_f'onxçuaUnht sUa tbottkec QpltuRsc jloizn vdranésA nmLoSn. FdoKsN, me_ OprCi!vJanit gaainsij Ad'aviXr. Je serre me*s Qmains meLn^o'ttKé(es et irje$gAaXrBdLe Ul''hwoGmmel p_laac.ePr Duqn wfnezrT cmhFaVukdz dóansC Rleh f$eu.v
"Un seigneur doit être prêt à se surpasser pour son titre. Il doit faire preuve de force et avoir ce qu'il faut." Il retire le fer chaud des flammes et se tourne vers moi, l'extrémité brûlant rouge. "Si tu échoues dans ta position de Seigneur, nous prendrons ce qui a été gagné." Il regarde à sa droite et ajoute : "Faites-le taire."
Une main saisit mes cheveux, me tirant la tête en arrière pour fixer le plafond noir. Si je pouvais respirer, je grognerais contre l'enfoiré qui me touche. Un petit chiffon est introduit dans ma bouche, et je le mords, sachant ce qui va se passer.
"Ryat Alexander Archer, bienvenue chez les Seigneurs. Car tu récolteras les bénéfices de ton sacrifice." Puis le fer chaud est pressé sur ma poitrine, brûlant l'écusson sur mon corps.