Lycans Don't Lie

Chapter 9: The Venti-Sized Betrayal

POV: Elara (Safehouse, 3:47 AM)

The neon-green canister gleamed under the flickering safehouse lights, its label mocking me in cheerful cursive: SILVER NANO-MIST – VENTI SIZE.

Of course it’s Starbucks-branded.

The drone’s rotors kicked up a wind that reeked of artificial vanilla and something far more lethal. I grabbed Heather’s wrist, my silver-tipped claws retracting just enough not to draw blood. "Turn. Off. The. Stream."

Her phone screen showed 2.3M LIVE VIEWERS.

A superchat exploded across the feed:

@BloodBae420: $50,000 if you open the canister.

Heather’s fingers twitched.

POV: Marcus (Bloodsinger HQ, 3:49 AM)

Marcus’s laugh echoed through the control room. His team had outdone themselves—packaging weaponized silver in a frappuccino-themed canister. The humans ate it up. Literally.

SilverSwap Subscriptions: 18,442

Active Hunts: 679

Total Revenue: $8.9M

His phone buzzed.

Mother Lycan: You’ve gone too far. The Council is convening.

He typed back without looking: "Tell them to bring their checkbooks."

Then he unmuted Heather’s live audio.

"—don’t care about the money!" she was shouting. "That thing will kill us all!"

Marcus sighed and tapped another button.

POV: Heather

The Venmo notification hit like a gut punch:

+$100,000

Memo: Open it. Or the next canister drops on an elementary school.

My breath stalled. The chat was a blur:

"DO IT"

"FAKE"

"I’LL MATCH $100K"

Elara’s claws dug into my skin. "He’s bluffing."

The drone’s payload lock clicked open.

POV: Caden (Church Crypt, 3:52 AM)

The ancient contract burned my fingers.

Not metaphorically. The damn thing was literally on fire, its edges curling to reveal glowing text beneath:

"The Silver Tongue shall cleanse the Lycan curse."

My mother’s signature swam in my vision. Next to it, another name—scratched out with claw marks—but still legible:

Maeve Silvertongue.

The first hybrid.

And, if this document was real…

My aunt.

POV: Elara

The canister hissed.

I moved without thinking, shoving Heather behind me as the first wisps of silver mist coiled toward us. My vision sharpened—every particle a glittering blade suspended in the air.

Then Lira lunged, slamming the modified Keurig against the drone.

"EAT COFFEE, YOU TECH-BRO VAMPIRE b***h!"

The explosion singed my eyebrows off.

POV: Marcus

The feed cut to static.

Marcus’s smile didn’t falter. He turned to his team. "Release the reserve drones. And prep the grande canisters."

One of the techs hesitated. "Sir, the grande payload is calibrated for—"

"Civilian centers. Yes, I know." He adjusted his cufflinks. "Let’s see how viral this hunt really gets."

POV: Caden



The crypt walls whispered.

Not in words. In heartbeats.

Dozens of them, buried beneath the church—some slow, some frantic. All alive.

Jax’s voice echoed from the shadows. "Took you long enough."

My brother stepped into the torchlight, his eyes solid silver.

"Welcome to the family business."