The atmosphere was charged with mana and frustration. The room seemed too small to contain Vixen Rose's presence at that moment.
She paced back and forth, her heels striking the marble floor like hammer blows. Her nails, red as blood, scratched the air with every dramatic gesture. Her eyes—always cynical, always dangerous—now burned with genuine fury.
"They did this without warning! Without my permission! That bunch of designer-clad political corpses will pay. I'll rip their heads off one by one—one by one, Connie!"
She turned abruptly, causing the layers of her crimson coat to swirl like the cape of a demonic general.
Connie Parker, sitting calmly with a glass of magic wine suspended between her fingers, raised an eyebrow, unperturbed.
"Vixen. Calm down." Her voice was soft as silk, but sharp as a razor. "Touching the Council... it's not that simple. Even for you."
Seth, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watched the scene with half-closed eyes. The tension between the two was palpable. But there was something in those words that set off an alarm in his mind.
"The Council? You keep talking about it as if it were a divine title. Can someone explain to me what the hell it is?"
Vixen stopped in her tracks. Her violet eyes turned to him with an intensity that could kill an ordinary man.
"The Council, sweetie..." she said, her voice dripping with venom and irony, "...is the pretty name for the United Nations of Hunters. The most powerful. The oldest. The most dangerous."
She walked up to Seth, standing inches from his face.
"They don't rule countries. They decide who lives and who dies. They founded the rules you don't even know you're breaking."
Connie sighed and added, more calmly:
"Officially, it's the High Council of Hunters. A closed circle of thirteen members. All Rank-S. All... above the law."
Seth looked from one to the other, his expression closed, but his brain working fast.
"And you answer to them?"
Vixen laughed. A sharp, furious sound, like glass cracking.
"'Answer' is a delicate word. I... tolerate their existence. And only because breaking the whole board now would cost me more than I'm willing to pay. But if they put another leash on someone of mine — or on you — I swear to hell... I'll burn this whole world down before I sign any treaty."
The room fell silent for a moment.
Seth looked out the window—where the night sky seemed to press against the glass with its impassive immensity.
"So they own the game."
Connie replied, with a slight melancholy smile: "They're the ones who pretend the game still has rules."
Seth clenched his fists, his eyes still fixed on the sky outside. The city was quiet, but inside, a silent thunder began to roar beneath his skin.
"I'm not going to follow anyone's rules."
His voice was low but firm as stone. Definitive as a sentence.
Vixen stared at him with something that wasn't mockery this time. It was respect. Danger recognizing danger.
Connie just smiled—that calm smile that always preceded an uncomfortable truth. She brought the glass to her lips, took a slow sip, and then spoke as if quoting an ancient law:
"This world has no rules, Seth."
She rose from her chair, her expression more serious than ever.
"The strongest dictate the rules. That's all there is to it. There is no justice, no balance. There is power. And the strongest Rank-S hunters... are the ones who really rule."
She took a step forward, stopping beside Vixen.
"The Council isn't a committee. It's a court of bored idiots. They decide wars between guilds with a wave of their hands. They erase names from records like they're dusting off cobwebs. You think you can ignore that? You can. But what happens next... is just the world trying to crush those who don't kneel."
Vixen crossed her arms and nodded.
"They've noticed you, Seth. And now they're going to try to pull your leash. And if you don't have a leash..."
She smiled. But it was an empty smile.
"They'll try to cut your throat."
Seth looked from one to the other. And then he spoke, without hesitation:
"Let them try."
The silence after Seth's statement was thick. A challenge spat to the heavens. A sentence that echoed far beyond that room.
Vixen didn't respond immediately.
She just stared at him — eyes wide, shining like wet blades in the light. Something changed there. Anger turned into impulse. Impulse turned into desire. And then...
She moved.
Quick as a spark that precedes a fire, Vixen lunged forward, grabbed Seth by the wrist with a strength that belied her slender appearance, and pulled him brutally toward her.
He barely had time to react. He was thrown into the leather armchair as if he weighed nothing, the back creaking under the impact.
And then she sat on him—facing him, legs crossed behind his back, like a living trap, panting softly, her eyes fixed on his with a mixture of fury, amusement, and... something more primal.
"Let's forget this," she whispered, before pressing her mouth to his.
It was an aggressive kiss. Fierce. Not sweet at all. It was like being branded with a hot iron.
The touch of her lips tasted of wine, blood, and rebellion. As if, for a moment, the entire war in the world could be silenced with that gesture. As if she wanted to prove that she was alive — and that he was too.
Seth did not respond immediately.
For a second, just a second, he felt her anger, her masked desire for control, her fear disguised as provocation. And then his fingers closed firmly around her waist. Not to push her away. But as someone who decides he will not back down.
Vixen moved away slightly, with a satisfied smile and rapid breathing. Her eyes sparkled like those of a wolf who had just marked her territory.
"That's right. Much better than politics, isn't it?"
Across the room, Connie remained motionless.
But her fingers had closed tightly around the wine glass—so tightly that small cracks began to appear in the enchanted crystal.
She said nothing. But her eyes said it all.
Coldness. Jealousy. A thinly veiled feeling that burned more intensely than any spell.
Seth noticed. The whole world would notice, if it dared to look.
Connie took a deep breath, controlling the fire behind the faint smile that now seemed made of ice.
"Sure," she said in a light voice, but one that vibrated beneath the surface. "Forget the Council. Great idea. Let's ignore the thirteen most powerful hunters in the world and focus on foreplay in the middle of a political war."
Vixen laughed—a taunting laugh, sharp as polished glass.
"Oh, Connie... please. If you're so jealous... Why don't you come here and we'll have a threesome? ... I'm horny, if you want to join in..."