The Villains Must Win-Chapter 113: Valerian Cross 33

"Well, here we are," Evelyn whispered as they finally reached the basement of the castle, their footsteps silent against the cold stone floor.

Shadows stretched across the dimly lit corridor, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and something far more sinister—blood.

"Remember, we just need to get Stephany and get the hell out. We do not want to linger in a vampire’s lair longer than necessary."

Valerian didn’t respond. He simply watched Evelyn’s back, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his dagger. This mission was reckless—dangerous in ways he couldn’t begin to calculate. But the risk wasn’t what unsettled him. It was her.

For the first time in his life, he found himself caring more about someone else’s safety than his own or his sister. He had spent years as a hunter, expecting to die with a stake in his hand and a vampire’s corpse at his feet. But now? Now, he wanted to live. He wanted her to live.

"Evelyn . . ." The name slipped from his lips before he could stop it.

She halted mid-step, glancing over her shoulder. "What?"

Valerian opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Damn it. What was he trying to say? That she should retreat, save herself? That he liked her? That he was starting to feel something for a witch—something reckless, something dangerous?

It was lunacy. She was a witch. He was a hunter. They were on opposite sides of a war that had been raging for centuries. There was no room for . . . whatever this was. Not in a world where survival was a gamble and emotions were liabilities, and each side wanted to tear each other apart.

He clenched his jaw, shoving the thoughts deep down where they couldn’t betray him. "Nothing," he muttered. "Let’s just be careful."

Evelyn smirked, turning back toward the hallway. "Oh, I’m way ahead of you on that one."

Her tone was light, teasing—but there was something else hidden beneath it, something she wasn’t saying either. Valerian exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

This was bad.

He wasn’t just walking into a vampire’s lair.

He was walking straight into something even more dangerous.

Her.

Valerian exhaled a slow, measured breath, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. Now he somewhat understood how Stephany must have felt when she confessed her feelings for a vampire. The impossibility of it. The conflict between duty and desire.

But they were Cross.

They had responsibilities far greater than their feelings.

He and Evelyn . . . they weren’t meant to be together. Just like his sister and Lucien weren’t meant to be.

Even so, that knowledge did nothing to dull the ache in his chest.

Shaking the thought away, he refocused on the mission. "How the hell are we supposed to find my sister in this massive castle?" he muttered, eyes scanning the endless corridors. "We don’t even have a damn layout of this place."

Evelyn smirked as if she had been waiting for him to ask that. "Didn’t I tell you to leave everything to me once we got here?" She extended a hand toward him expectantly. "Did you bring what I asked?"

Valerian narrowed his eyes but reached into his pocket, retrieving a worn, crescent-shaped pendant. It was old—older than both of them combined—and the metal was dulled from years of wear.

He placed it in Evelyn’s palm. "She always wore this back at HQ, but it must have broken when Lucien came and took her."

Evelyn studied the heirloom for a moment, running her fingers over its smooth surface. "Good. This has enough of her energy in it for me to track her."

Before Valerian could even ask what she meant by that, Evelyn closed her fist around the pendant—and crushed it.

Right there.

Like it was nothing.

Valerian froze. His brain struggled to process what had just happened.

". . . What the fuck?" His voice came out low, strained, dangerously close to a shout. He had to force himself to keep quiet, but if they weren’t in a damn vampire’s den, he would have been yelling all the way back to HQ. "Do you have any idea what you just did?"

Evelyn, completely unfazed, blew the fine dust from her palm into the air. The shimmering particles danced in the dim light, spiraling like embers before drifting in a single direction. A clear path to Stephany.

"You’re welcome, by the way," she quipped, watching the dust as if it hadn’t just destroyed a priceless relic.

Valerian’s jaw clenched. "That was a family heirloom. Passed down for generations. Do you even realize—you can’t put a price on it!"

Evelyn rolled her eyes, already following the dust’s path. "Oh, don’t be so overly dramatic, Cross." She tossed him a teasing grin over her shoulder. "I’m sure you have plenty of your so-called heirlooms lying around back in your HQ. Besides—" she gestured at the floating dust leading them forward "—your sister’s safety is a bit more important than an old necklace, don’t you think?"

Valerian inhaled sharply, his frustration simmering dangerously close to the surface. But as much as he wanted to argue, to lecture her on the importance of that necklace, he couldn’t deny the truth in her words.

Stephany was somewhere in this gods-forsaken castle, and if this was what it took to find her . . . then so be it.

Grinding his teeth, he took a step forward. "We will discuss more about this once we’re back at HQ."

Evelyn hummed in amusement. "Add it to the list."

Valerian sighed.

Something told him that list was only going to get longer.

Evelyn moved, retrieving a small leather pouch from inside her cloak. She loosened the drawstrings, revealing a fine, iridescent powder that shimmered like crushed moonstone.

"Stay still," she murmured.

Before Valerian could react, she pinched a bit of the powder between her fingers and blew it toward him.

The dust spread in a delicate veil, clinging to his skin and clothes like mist. It smelled faintly of damp earth, old parchment, and something vaguely metallic—like blood, but not quite.

Valerian grimaced. "What the hell is this?"