Houston – Hunting the Shadow Queen

(Henry's POV – The Search for Nocturne)

The neon lights of Houston's underworld flickered against my sunglasses as I walked through the crowded streets, hands in my coat pockets.

My mind was still processing what Samuel had told me.

He fucked Roselle.

Honestly? Not surprising.

Considering their history—the constant battles, the rivalry, the tension—I'd be more shocked if they hadn't ended up in bed together.

Still, the fact that Roselle willingly gave up information meant something.

Now, it was my turn to find Nocturne.

And unlike Samuel, I had a feeling I wouldn't be so… lucky.

Because unlike Roselle, Nocturne hated me.

I sighed, adjusting my coat as I moved through the dimly lit streets.

"Let's find some more clues first. If she's in Houston, there has to be a lead somewhere."

---

The Warehouse Lead

My search led me to a large warehouse on the outskirts of the city—one of the places rumored to be a secret holding for Nocturne's operations.

A man stood at the entrance, his arms crossed over his chest, a pistol tucked into his waistband.

I approached slowly, keeping my steps calm and measured.

"You're in the wrong place, stranger," the man growled.

I tilted my head slightly, offering my best polite smile. "I think I'm exactly where I need to be."

The man narrowed his eyes. "Who the hell are you?"

I removed my sunglasses, letting my piercing blue eyes lock onto his.

"Liberty."

The man's entire posture stiffened.

He recognized the name.

Good.

I took a step forward. "Now, you're going to let me inside, or you're going to regret it."

The man hesitated for a second—then went for his gun.

Wrong move.

Before he could even lift it, I had already teleported behind him with Celestial Blink.

I grabbed his wrist, twisting it until I heard the satisfying snap of bone.

The gun clattered to the ground as he screamed in pain.

I sighed, shaking my head. "I gave you a choice, didn't I?"

He groaned, clutching his broken wrist. "You bastard…"

I crouched down, grabbing his jaw. "Tell me where Nocturne is. Now."

His breathing was ragged. "She's… she's not here."

"I know that, genius. Where is she?"

He swallowed hard. "New York… Her main headquarters is in New York."

New York.

I should have figured.

But I wasn't leaving just yet.

I had a few more loose ends to tie up before heading to her doorstep.

I stood up, cracking my knuckles. "Thanks for the information."

Then I knocked him out cold.

---

Piecing it Together

As I walked back into the city, I dialed Samuel's number.

The call rang for a moment before his smug voice answered. "Liberty! Calling me already? Miss me?"

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, Samuel. I found Nocturne's location."

There was a pause. "Let me guess. New York?"

I sighed. "Yeah."

Samuel chuckled. "Of course she's there. That woman never settles for anything less than the center of the world."

"I don't think this will be as easy as Roselle," I muttered, watching the city lights flicker.

"Oh, definitely not," Samuel replied, amusement clear in his tone. "She actually hates you."

"Thanks for the reminder, asshole."

He laughed. "Just saying. Maybe try my method."

I hung up the call before he could continue.

Time to head to New York.

And time to face Nocturne—the woman who would rather kill me than talk to me.

New York – The Spotlight Finds Me

The bright lights of Times Square flashed around me, illuminating the bustling crowds, the towering billboards, and the endless sea of people.

I adjusted my coat, keeping my steps calm and steady.

My focus was supposed to be on finding Nocturne.

But before I could take another step—

"Oh my God! It's Liberty!"

I sighed. Here we go.

A group of girls rushed toward me, their eyes wide with excitement, their phones already recording.

Of course.

I was Liberty.

One of the finest artists on the planet.

And, apparently, one of the most handsome men alive.

The first girl, barely able to contain her excitement, held out a sketchbook. "Mr. Liberty, could you sign this? Your artwork changed my life!"

I offered a small smirk, taking the pen from her hands. "You have good taste, sweetheart."

As I signed, another girl shyly tucked her hair behind her ear, hesitating before speaking. "I just… I can't believe how good-looking you are in real life. Like, even better than the pictures!"

I chuckled. "I get that a lot."

More fans gathered around, whispering excitedly, their cameras flashing.

This was something I was used to.

The fame. The attention. The whispers of admiration.

I had sculpted this public persona—the mysterious, ridiculously handsome artist who lived in his own world.

And as much as it could be annoying, I had to admit—

It had its perks.

One of the girls hesitated, then finally blurted out—"Are you single?!"

I paused, then smirked. "For now."

The way they squealed could probably be heard across the entire city.

I handed the signed sketchbook back and gave them a casual wink. "Stay inspired."

Then, as smoothly as I arrived, I disappeared into the crowd.

Because I had more important matters to attend to.

And one of them?

Finding Nocturne.