The night was quiet, save for the distant hum of the Black Market below, its life never truly sleeping. Murciélago stood beside Reina on the estate’s balcony, his wings folded neatly against his back, his sharp gaze fixed on the city lights. “You’ll be a great leader,” he murmured, his voice unusually soft in the stillness. Reina scoffed, tilting her head to glance at him, but before she could deflect, he continued, “I mean it. You think like her, but you feel more than she ever did.” A rare smile flickered across his face as he turned to her, his fangs glinting under the moonlight. “That’s why you’ll be better than any of us.” There was no jealousy, no bitterness—only quiet certainty, the kind only a brother who truly believed in her could offer.