The man with the golden wolf mask moved through the crowd with the smooth confidence of someone who owned the world beneath his feet.
Each step was deliberate, silent, deadly.
Elias stood his ground as the man stopped just a few paces away.
Up close, the aura around him was suffocating — a presence so heavy it pressed against Elias's ribs, squeezing the air from his lungs.
"You're late," the man said, his voice a low growl, each word dripping with quiet menace.
Elias didn't flinch.
"Wasn't aware I was expected," he replied coolly.
A slow, approving chuckle rumbled from behind the golden mask.
"Good," the man said. "Arrogance dressed as indifference. A necessary weapon in this world."
He circled Elias once, studying him like a collector inspecting a new piece for his gallery.
"You're raw," the man murmured. "Untamed. Perfect."
Elias's fists clenched at his sides.
"Who are you?"
The man paused in front of him, tilting his head slightly, amused.
"I am what this city fears," he said.
"And what it secretly worships."
He held out a gloved hand.
"I am offering you a place at the table, Elias."
Elias stared at the hand.
And the world seemed to go silent around him.
---
Behind the glitter and glamor of this secret society, he could feel it:
The rot.
The blood.
The power.
Accepting meant stepping into darkness with no guarantee of ever finding the light again.
Rejecting meant staying in the crosshairs, a target, a bug to be crushed at their leisure.
Freedom had a price.
Selene's words whispered in his ear.
Slowly, Elias reached out and took the man's hand.
The handshake was brief — but electric.
A binding without words.
The man leaned in close, his masked face inches from Elias's ear.
"Welcome to the Council of Umbra," he whispered. "You belong to the night now."
---
The rest of the evening blurred.
Names were never spoken — only titles.
The Viper.
The Duchess.
The Hand.
The Crow.
And now, The Wolf — the golden-masked man — had chosen Elias.
Eyes followed him everywhere.
Some with envy.
Some with hunger.
Some with murder.
By the time Elias left, slipping back through the iron gates into the cold night, he was no longer the same boy who had walked in.
Something inside him had shifted.
Broken.
Rebuilt.
Sharpened.
---
As he disappeared into the shadows of the sleeping city, a sleek black car pulled up silently beside him.
The window rolled down.
Selene was inside, her dark eyes gleaming.
"You accepted," she said, not a question, but a fact.
Elias nodded once.
Selene's lips curled into a smile — a real one, tinged with pride and sadness.
"Good," she whispered. "Now the real war begins."
She opened the door.
"Get in."
Without hesitation, Elias slid into the car, leaving behind the world he knew — and stepping fully into the darkness waiting ahead.
---