A FORBIDDEN PRIZE

"Anomaly is the catalyst for change."

{MERLENA'S POV}

As I stood beneath Basho Bridge, the familiar landscape of Greenville unfolded before me.

The bridge's name—Basho—was a quiet homage to history; in Japanese, it meant plantain tree. I remembered the countless times I'd passed through this area, witnessing the city evolve around its roots. The bridge now stretched across what had once been a small grove of plantain trees—an oasis erased in the name of progress.

My knowledge of Greenville's hidden corners came with being a Watcher, born and bred here. Every alleyway, every bridge, every landmark carried a story, and I knew them all.

But the serenity of the moment shattered with the discovery of five lifeless bodies. Each bore the grotesque marks of brutal violence—some with gaping chest cavities, others with jagged wounds torn through their necks. And most chilling of all, every corpse was headless. The uniformity of the decapitations was no accident.

I had been watching from a distance, hidden in the shadows. Earlier that night, I'd seen these same men at Valhalla—including the distinctive white-haired one. They were searching for something. Five of them had entered; one had slipped away earlier. I'd watched as they asked questions and scanned the crowd. They even approached me, unaware of who—or what—I was.

Eventually, their attention locked onto a striking black-haired woman. Tension rose instantly as they surrounded her. I wasn't sure if they were supernatural, and I wasn't about to intervene without certainty. I remained hidden, observing.

As the last of the mysterious figures disappeared into the night, I felt an unexpected pull—a gut instinct urging me to follow. It didn't surprise me that they had found their way here. Valhalla, our secret headquarters, was buried deep in the shadows of this city.

Most Watchers would've let them go. Not me. My curiosity was stronger than my caution. I trailed them quietly, watching from a safe distance as they moved through the city. Then came the ambush—and chaos erupted.

The glow in their eyes revealed their true nature. Supernatural. The white-haired man—clearly a Beta—was up against four Omegas and another Beta. The odds were against him. I expected him to fall. But what happened next left me stunned.

He moved with inhuman speed and precision, cutting down his enemies in mere moments. It wasn't just skill—it was raw, overwhelming power. And then his eyes shifted. From piercing blue to inky black.

That change, it wasn't normal. It spoke of something deeper, darker—something far beyond the typical traits of his kind.

I stayed hidden until the last blow had landed. When he finished, he calmly collected the severed heads into his trench coat and vanished into the night. Only then did I step forward, shotgun ready, in case something remained.

Based on what I'd seen, his strength and speed rivaled that of an Alpha—but his eye color didn't match. No red. Just that unnerving shift between blue and black. I snapped a quick photo of the aftermath before slipping my phone into my coat. With the scene documented, I melted back into the shadows.

Normally, I would've taken my shot—eliminated the threat before the full moon, when supernaturals were at their peak. But I knew I wouldn't have stood a chance. He was too fast. Too strong. I could've alerted my team, organized an ambush. But he was already gone, and the moment had passed.

Still, I had a feeling this wasn't the end. Our paths would cross again—and next time, I'd be ready. The next encounter would likely fall under the full moon's gaze. If he was this powerful now, I dreaded what he might become when the moon's influence took hold.

Back at Valhalla, I scanned the crowd for the black-haired woman. Nothing. She'd vanished. I moved through the swarm of dancers, down a hallway that ended at a locked, unassuming door—one most would ignore. It was the entrance to our true headquarters.

I knocked in the specific rhythm only we knew. A moment later, the door creaked open.

David stood there—our SP, or Security Personnel. His broad frame filled the entryway, his familiar grin breaking through the dim light.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," he said. "You look like you just lost your last buck. What's eating you, mate? Your face is longer than the Greenville traffic jam."

As a Section Commander, I outranked most of the operatives inside. The hierarchy was simple: Managing Director at the top, then the Deputy Director, followed by us Section Commanders, and finally the Operating Personnel at the base.

SPs like David were different. They answered only to the Deputy Director, operating outside our traditional structure. It was a unique setup—but effective. David's strength alone was enough to hold this entrance. His laid-back demeanor disguised a ruthless capability, making him the perfect gatekeeper.

"No time for banter," I replied, stepping inside. "I've got an anomaly to report. Urgently."

Inside, no one could eavesdrop. Warlock-enchanted walls guaranteed complete silence. I didn't want to think about what kind of price was paid for that kind of magic.

"Alright then," David said with a nod. He slid a table and chair aside, revealing a hidden floorboard. Beneath it, the passage to our underground lair. He moved with care, not disturbing the open laptop on the desk. Behind him, ten large monitors tracked everything happening in Valhalla—real-time surveillance from every angle.

The footage surely showed the five men entering the bar, the interaction with the black-haired woman, and their supernatural presence. But no one intervened. They hadn't hurt anyone. And more importantly, exposing ourselves could compromise the base.

I gave David a nod and climbed down the ladder.

He sealed the floor above me.

The descent was long, but I eventually reached the lair. Watchers moved with purpose, the hum of activity surrounding me. This was the heart of our operations.

And tonight, I had intelligence that would shift everything.