The room was freezing cold and horribly dim. The sharp clicking of Kraven's shoes echoed as he approached Markus's throne, taking care not to walk directly over the ornate coffins holding what remained of the Coven leaders. Countless intravenous needles fed blood into key places on Markus's back; the IV bags hanging limply on a metal rack behind him. He wore only a pair of loose, baggy pants of a black material. Despite Markus's weakened state, Kraven could still see the elegance and sophistication in the man's face. He ducked his head and knelt in a type of bow, diverting his eyes from the furious leader.
"Get up, Kraven," said Markus coldly. "Perhaps you can find legitimate reason for me not to kill you. Why have you returned?"
"I…I did not want to see the Coven in disarray, my lord," he said, after rising quickly to his feet. Despite his stammering, he kept his face stony and expressionless. Markus's eyes flashed.
"When, pray tell, did the Coven become your responsibility?"
Kraven glanced downward. "I was left in..."
"No!" Markus said sharply, cutting him off, "You were never in control of the Coven. It was always Viktor, Amelia, or myself, always watching, always keeping you in check."
Markus rose slowly, his movements poised despite the IV's in his back. There was no sound but each of their heavy breathing as Kraven was slowly approached. A long, pregnant pause filled the slow air before Markus spoke again. "Your incompetence has been most taxing. It is beyond me why you would return after what you have done."
For the first time since all of this began, Kraven was frightened. He had managed to maintain his war-hero façade for centuries, only to have it destroyed in one night of flame and retribution. The Lycan leader was dead, and by his own hands, but he had been unable to destroy the descendant of Corvinus. Things were torn: he couldn't stay at the Coven, and his peace treaty with the Lycan Clan had been destroyed.
Markus once again broke the silence with a harsh and angry shout. "You were in league with Lucian! This is treason, Kraven, and the punishment will be severe." He paused, regarding Kraven with cold, ice blue eyes. When he spoke again, his voice was void of emotion and tone. "The council will convene and decide your fate."
"But my lord, I only wanted what was best for the Coven. I wanted to put an end to the war." Kraven stammered slightly, his voice having softened in a combination of fear and respect for the Elder. To his surprise, Markus smiled, but it was not a friendly expression. It was the casual smirk of a man in charge, dripping with malice and satisfaction.
"No, Kraven," he said calmly, "You wanted an end to your war. This can not be ended with a peace treaty. I trust you realize this now." There was a cold finality in his voice that could not be argued with. "Drake! Fell!" he said to no one in particular. Moments later, the large doors slide open and two stony-faced men in leather dusters appeared. Markus smiled again. "Do escort Kraven to his cell, would you?" The men nodded and stepped quickly forward, taking each of his arms in an iron-clad grip.
"Do not get me wrong, Kraven," said Markus with a hint of amusement, "Cross me, or the Coven again, and your fate will not be as lenient."
Drake and fell dragged Kraven from the room, leaving Markus in silent and furious contemplation. As they left, Kraven lifted his head. Staring into the glass windows of the security room, he saw Selene, wrapped in Michael's now-human arms, staring back at him with an indescribable hatred.
But despite this, he thought, she's still so beautiful.