Mine fire riddere

Chapter One

As night fell, the cold moon hung high in the sky. The bright moonlight fell on the ancient castle on the edge of the city, casting a mysterious silver veil around it. Emily stood on the balcony, looking at the forest in the distance, and felt a chill rising from the bottom of her heart. Since moving to this castle, her life has become bizarre and mysterious.
The cold wind in October swept across her bare shoulders, bringing a shudder. Emily subconsciously wrapped her woolen shawl tightly around her, but she couldn't feel any warmth. This castle seems to be always cold, just like its mysterious owner Lucas Black, exuding an inaccessible atmosphere.
"Miss Emily," suddenly, a low voice sounded behind her, "You'll catch a cold if you're still outside so late."
She turned around and saw Lucas standing at the balcony door. The moonlight outlined his tall figure. He was wearing a dark silk shirt, and the collar vaguely revealed his strong chest. The amber eyes flickered strangely in the darkness, as if they could see through her soul.
"Mr. Black," Emily whispered, trying to hide the trembling in her voice, "I'm just admiring the moonlight."
Lucas took a step forward, but suddenly stopped. Emily noticed that his body stiffened instantly, and his nostrils fluttered slightly, as if he was sniffing something. His expression became solemn, and a glimmer of wildness flashed in his eyes, but was quickly suppressed.
"Please go in," his voice was hoarser than usual, "It's not safe here."
Just then, a cold night breeze swept across the balcony, bringing a faint smell of rust. Emily saw that Lucas's fingers were almost pinched into the stone railing, and his knuckles were white. She couldn't help but take a step back, her heartbeat accelerated.
"I thought this castle was the safest place," she whispered, "after all, you are here."
Lucas let out an almost inaudible growl, "Some danger, Miss Emily, is much closer than you think." His eyes looked unusually sharp in the moonlight, "especially on a full moon night."
Suddenly, a wolf howl came from the distant forest, shrill and long. Emily was surprised to find that Lucas' pupils shrank in an instant and turned into vertical pupils like a beast, but the fleeting change made her wonder if it was just an illusion caused by the moonlight.
Just then, a cold breath passed by her from behind, accompanied by a chuckle. Emily turned around and saw only a dark shadow flashing in the corner of the balcony. When she looked back again, Lucas had come to her side, with a hand gently on her shoulder.
"I'll take you back to your room," he said, with an unquestionable commanding tone in his voice. Emily noticed that his palms were surprisingly hot, in sharp contrast to the chill of the castle.
Walking in the dark corridor of the castle, Emily could feel Lucas' presence, he walked behind her like a silent guardian. Moonlight poured in through the Gothic stained glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the floor.
"Good night, Miss Emily," Lucas whispered in front of her door, "Remember, no matter what sound you hear, don't leave the room tonight."
"Why?" Emily asked subconsciously.
Lucas was silent for a moment, his eyes looked deep and dangerous in the moonlight, "Because the moonlight tonight is too beautiful, it will always wake up something that shouldn't wake up."
When the door closed behind her, Emily leaned against the door, her heartbeat still alarmingly fast. She could hear Lucas's footsteps gradually fading away, but she seemed to hear the sound of wings flapping outside the window. She walked to the window and looked out through the glass.
In the moonlit courtyard, she saw a figure standing by the fountain. The man looked up at her window, and the moonlight illuminated his pale marble face - it was Draco, with a mysterious smile on his lips and a dangerous light in his eyes. When Emily blinked, his figure had disappeared, as if he had never appeared. Emily lay trembling on the bed, listening to the wolf howling outside the window. She knew that she had fallen into a world full of dangers, and this was just the beginning. On this moonlit night, her fate was closely linked to two mysterious and dangerous beings, and there was no turning back.

Chapter Two

In the dead of night, Emily lay in bed, the faces of Lucas and Draco appeared in her mind. She could not resist the deep attraction, but she also knew that she was caught in a dangerous vortex. She knew that the confrontation between the two men was a life-and-death hostility, and she was just a pawn in their war. A corner of her heart reminded her to escape, but the deeper desire pulled her to stay in this mysterious castle, looking forward to the unknown encounter.

        Just as she was about to fall asleep, a slight knock on the window interrupted the silence. Emily opened her eyes, and the moonlight poured into the room through the curtains, making the corners of the room particularly dark. She sat up subconsciously, trembling slightly and walked to the window. When she opened the curtains, a figure was standing in front of her, cold and elegant.

        It was Draco.

        "Sorry, I scared you, Emily." His low voice was frivolous and indifferent, as if every word revealed his unfathomable darkness. His eyes were like two flames in the abyss, locking onto her with an irresistible force.

        "How... are you here?" Emily's heartbeat quickened, and her hands unconsciously clenched a corner of the curtain. She knew she should be scared at this moment, but Draco's unique charm made it hard for her to resist.

        Draco did not answer her question, but slowly approached, lowered his head and whispered in her ear: "You know why I'm here, Emily. You've never really been afraid of me, right?"

        The moment he approached, she smelled the cold breath on him, as if it came from the night a thousand years ago. Her breathing gradually became rapid, but she did not retreat, but was locked by his eyes, as if her soul was also attracted to him.

        "Draco... we can't do this." Her voice was weak, but she did not retreat at all, as if even she herself was struggling with contradictions.

        "You don't belong here at all, Emily. Staying here will only put you in deeper danger." Draco gently lifted her chin, with a smile on the corner of his cold mouth, that smile was both gentle and dangerous, "But if you want to know the real darkness, then come. I will take you to see everything."

        At this moment, the door was pushed open, and Lucas' figure appeared at the door like a shadow. His face was gloomy, and his eyes were burning with anger. It was his possessiveness and anger that he could not hide. He walked towards Draco step by step, his hands clenched, his muscles tensed, as if he was going to pounce on and tear the enemy in front of him in the next second.

        "Draco, let her go." Lucas' voice was low and threatening, like an enraged beast. It was the first time Emily saw him so out of control, his eyes were like a ball of unextinguishable fire, revealing uncontrollable anger and possessiveness.

        Draco smiled slightly, released Emily's chin, and looked at Lucas provocatively. "Don't you understand yet? She doesn't belong to you. The savagery of the wolf tribe is nothing but a bondage to her, and I can give her true freedom."

        "The 'freedom' you mentioned will only make her fall into darkness. You don't understand what true protection is." Lucas sneered, his eyes as sharp as an eagle. He slowly stepped forward, blocked Emily, and protected her behind him. That was his attitude as the wolf king, firm and unshakable.

        Emily was sandwiched between the two, feeling her heartbeat speed up, as if breathing became difficult. These two completely different forces intertwined and collided in front of her, making it impossible for her to decide which side to choose.

        Draco raised the corners of his mouth and slowly took a step back, his eyes still on Emily. "Emily, one day you will find that he can't satisfy the desire in your heart. And I am your true home."

        As soon as the voice fell, Draco's figure disappeared into the night, as if he had never appeared.

        Lucas looked at the empty room, his fists gradually loosened, but the anger and worry in his eyes remained. He turned around and looked at Emily softly, but his eyes still flashed with contradictions and forbearance.

        "Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, with a trace of undisguised concern in his voice.

        Emily nodded, but her heart was in turmoil and it was difficult to calm down. She knew that she had fallen too deep. She could not let go of these two men easily, nor could she easily resist them. A complex emotion surged in her heart, which was a dangerous and fatal attraction.

        "Lucas, I..." She wanted to say something, but lost her words when she met his eyes.

        "Don't get close to him." Lucas' voice was low, with a hint of pleading and warning, "I know you feel confused, but Draco is not what you think. He will only drag you into the darkness, and I won't let him hurt you."

        Emily just looked at him silently, and a touch of uncertainty gradually rose in her heart. She knew that this was not just a war, but a contest of feelings and desires. In this dangerous triangle relationship, she has gone too far and can never turn back.

Chapter Three

Emily stayed awake all night. The wind outside the window blew through the woods, making a low moan, as if the whole castle was whispering in her ear. She curled up in bed, recalling Draco's cold smile and Lucas's deep eyes. Two completely different attractions stirred in her heart, making her lost on the edge of danger and desire.

        When the sky was slightly bright, she made a decision. She had to figure out what she wanted, the wildness and protection of the wolf tribe, or the mystery and temptation of the vampire. She got up and walked out of the room, walked through the deserted corridor, and came to the door of Lucas's study.

        The door of the study was slightly open, and a whisper came from inside. Emily stood outside the door and pricked up her ears to listen.

        "She is innocent, Lucas." A low and gentle female voice came from Lucas's sister, Leila. Emily had heard rumors about her. Leila was the wisest prophet in the wolf tribe and could always see fragments of the future.

        "I know, Leila." Lucas' voice was hoarse, as if he had struggled all night, "but I can't control myself, I can't suppress my desire for her. I'm afraid that if she stays with me, she will only be swallowed by my darkness."

        Emily's heart trembled, and she raised her hand to push open the door.

        "Lucas." Her voice was abrupt and firm in the silent room.

        The two turned around and saw her standing at the door with a hint of determination in her eyes. She walked slowly towards Lucas, looked up at him, with a hint of determination and inquiry in her eyes.

        "I know you protect me, but I'm not a fragile child." Her voice was calm and firm, "I need to know the truth. Why are you always so hesitant? And why is Draco so persistent in approaching me?"

        Lucas' expression froze for a moment, his eyes wandering on her face, as if he was weighing whether to tell her everything. Finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind.

        "Emily, the fate of our werewolves is usually determined at birth. The wolf tribe has a unique ability to perceive its partner. When we find that person, we will feel an attraction that cannot be ignored... and you are my destined partner." Lucas spoke in a low voice, with pain and desire flashing in his eyes.

        Emily's heartbeat accelerated, and thousands of emotions surged in her mind, both shocked and confused. She never thought that she would become his destined partner, and his possessiveness and protectiveness of her turned out to come from this ancient bond.

        She asked softly: "What about Draco? Why is he so obsessed with me?"

        Lucas's eyes became more gloomy, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes. "Draco's tribe never believed in fate. They prefer to dominate their own future. And he believes that as long as he possesses you, he can destroy me and the traditional beliefs of the wolf tribe. So, he is not sincere to you, but to weaken my power."

        Emily's heart suddenly tightened, and a hint of anger and loss surged in her eyes. However, she also felt a little unwilling, as if she was just a tool in this struggle, being fought over and torn by the two, and she had no right to control herself.

        "So, Lucas, are you sincere? Is it just fate for me?" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, and her eyes became cold.

        Lucas was stunned, as if he was hurt by her question. He was silent for a moment before speaking: "Emily, I can't deny the existence of fate, but I can't ignore my feelings for you." He gently held her hand, his eyes full of affection and desire, "Whether it is fate or something else, I am willing to give up everything for you."

        Just then, a slight sound came from outside the window. Emily turned back suddenly and saw a pair of dark red eyes flashing outside the window, like a flame in the dark, and the familiar cold breath startled her heart.

        It was Draco.

        He stood outside the window, sneering at them, as if everything was under his control. He knocked on the window lightly, his voice cold and full of provocation: "I don't think it's possible to talk about 'betraying' everything here, Lucas. You can't protect her because she will eventually come to me."

        Lucas' eyes immediately became cold and dangerous. He stood in front of Emily, glared at Draco outside the window, and growled in a low voice: "Stay away from her, Draco. You can't force her to choose darkness."

        Draco smiled slightly, his eyes full of evil confidence. He raised his eyebrows at Emily, as if everything was under his control. "Dear Emily, you will find that the bright world cannot satisfy your desire. And darkness - is your destination." After he finished speaking, his figure instantly disappeared into the night.

        The room returned to silence, but the air was filled with tension and uneasiness. Emily looked at the empty darkness outside the window, feeling both fear and desire in her heart. She could no longer deny Draco's attraction to her, and the danger and mystery made her heart beat faster.

        Lucas noticed her hesitation, and a trace of pain and uneasiness flashed in his eyes. He gently held her hand and whispered, "Emily, don't get close to him. His darkness will devour you and make you lost in the endless night."

        She didn't respond, but just looked at him silently, her heart full of complicated emotions. She knew that she could no longer simply withdraw from the two of them. Her fate had been drawn into an uncontrollable vortex, and the only thing she could do was to follow her heart and touch the unknown darkness.

Chapter Four

As autumn deepened, the forest surrounding the castle donned a cloak of gold and crimson. Yet Emily felt none of the season's warmth. Since that night's revelation, her mind had been in constant turmoil, with Lucas's truth and Draco's temptation intertwining like two serpents in her thoughts, leaving her breathless.

        That evening, Emily found herself alone in the castle's library, searching through ancient tomes for any mention of werewolves and vampires. As she focused on a yellowed manuscript, the air suddenly turned cold. Looking up, she found Draco standing across from her, his appearance as silent as shadow.

        "Seeking truth, my dear Emily?" Draco leaned elegantly against the bookshelf, wearing a deep purple silk shirt that made his skin appear even paler. "But you know, written accounts are often one-sided."

        Emily instinctively stepped back. "Why do you always appear like this? It's unsettling."

        Draco chuckled softly, moving toward her with fluid grace. "Because I enjoy seeing you startled. It makes you even more enticing." His fingers traced her cheek, the cold touch making her shiver. "Lucas told you I'm merely using you, but did he mention that his fate is actually a chain binding him?"

        Emily froze. "What do you mean?"

        "The werewolves' so-called destined mates are nothing but constraints in their bloodline," Draco's voice carried a hypnotic power. "They're forced to love someone, forced to protect them. Isn't that tragic? While I..." his gaze deepened, "I choose you because I'm truly drawn to you."

        A low growl suddenly echoed from the doorway. Lucas stood there, his eyes now golden, filled with rage. "Step away from her, Draco!" His voice carried an unmistakable threat.

        Instead of retreating, Draco pulled Emily closer. "Why so angry, Lucas? Is it because I spoke the truth, or because you fear she might choose me?"

        The tension in the air grew thick enough to cut. Emily could feel the energy between the two men threatening to tear the room apart. Lucas's body trembled as he fought to control the beast within.

        "Enough!" Emily suddenly shouted, "What am I to both of you? Some trophy to be won?" Her voice carried both anger and hurt.

        Both men froze. Pain flashed across Lucas's eyes, while Draco's expression turned contemplative.

        Emily pushed away from Draco and walked toward the door, but paused beside Lucas. "You say I'm your destiny, but have you considered my feelings?" Her voice was soft but accusatory. "And you, Draco, if you truly cared for me, you wouldn't use me as a weapon against him."

        She hurried from the library, and only when she reached the corridor did her tears finally fall. She didn't know whom to trust - Lucas, chosen by fate, or Draco, who chose her himself? More importantly, she began to question whether she truly understood her own heart.

        As night fell, Emily stood on her balcony. Wolves howled in the distant forest, while somewhere in the castle, she thought she heard the flutter of bat wings. Everything reminded her that she stood at the crossroads between two worlds, and she had to make a choice.

        Then she noticed items on the balcony railing: a rose as black as night with a blood-red sheen - Draco's mark. Beside it lay a wolf fang necklace, a werewolf protection charm, obviously left by Lucas.

        Emily gently touched both items, her internal conflict growing stronger. She knew that choosing either would alter her destiny forever. But more importantly, she needed to understand what her heart truly desired.

        As moonlight bathed the castle grounds, Emily realized that her decision wouldn't just be about choosing between two men - it was about choosing what kind of life she wanted, and more importantly, who she wanted to become.

Chapter Five

The following days in the castle were filled with an unbearable tension. Emily found herself constantly caught between shadows and silence, between warmth and cold. Every corner seemed to hold either Lucas's protective presence or Draco's seductive whispers. The weight of their attention was becoming increasingly suffocating.

        One particularly cold morning, Emily discovered a mysterious leather-bound book in the library's restricted section. Its pages contained ancient prophecies about the eternal conflict between werewolves and vampires. As she read, her hands trembling, she found something that made her blood run cold.

        'When the moon bleeds red and the night grows teeth, a choice will be made that breaks the ancient cycle. A mortal's heart shall tip the balance, bringing either eternal darkness or salvation to both races.'

        "Interesting reading material," Leila's voice suddenly came from behind. Lucas's sister moved like a ghost, her silver eyes holding centuries of wisdom. "I've been waiting for you to find this."

        Emily closed the book carefully. "Is this... about me?"

        Leila's expression remained enigmatic. "The prophecy speaks of a mortal who stands between our worlds. But prophecies, dear Emily, are like rivers - they show the destination, but the path taken is always your choice."

        "What happens if I choose wrong?" Emily's voice wavered.

        "There is no wrong choice, only consequences," Leila replied, her voice gentle but firm. "But I must warn you - the blood moon approaches, and with it, a moment of truth that will change everything."

        Before Emily could ask more questions, a commotion erupted from the castle grounds. They rushed to the window to see Lucas and Draco facing each other in the courtyard, their postures tense with barely contained violence.

        "You've crossed the line, Draco," Lucas's voice carried up to them, filled with fury. "You dare to mark our territory?"

        Draco's laugh was cold and mocking. "Territory? This stopped being about territory the moment she arrived. Or are you afraid she's already choosing me?"

        Emily watched in horror as Lucas's form began to shift, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes. The morning sun caught his golden eyes, now burning with primal rage. Draco's own transformation was more subtle - his pale skin taking on an otherworldly sheen, his movements becoming impossibly fluid.

        "Stop!" Emily's voice rang out across the courtyard. Both men froze, their attention snapping to her window. "This has to end!"

        She turned to rush downstairs, but Leila caught her arm. "Be careful, Emily. The blood moon is three days away. Under its light, both races lose control of their darker natures. And you..." she paused meaningfully, "you will be at your most vulnerable."

        When Emily reached the courtyard, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Lucas immediately moved to her side, his protective instinct evident in every motion. But it was Draco who spoke first.

        "My apologies for the disturbance, dear Emily," his voice was silk over steel. "But perhaps it's time you understood the full scope of what you're involved in." He pulled an ancient medallion from his coat. "This belongs to your grandmother. She wasn't just any woman - she was a guardian, keeper of the balance between our races."

        Emily's world tilted. "My grandmother? But she died when I was young..."

        "She was murdered," Lucas cut in, his voice heavy with old pain. "By those who wanted to destroy the peace between our kinds. And now, as her descendant, you inherit her role - and her enemies."

        The revelation hit Emily like a physical blow. Suddenly, everything made more sense - the mysterious circumstances that led her to the castle, both men's intense interest in her, the prophecy. She wasn't just caught between two supernatural beings; she was part of an ancient legacy.

        "The blood moon comes," Draco said softly, his eyes locked on Emily. "And with it, powers long dormant will awaken. You'll need to choose not just between us, Emily, but between two paths for both our races."

        As if in response to his words, clouds gathered overhead, casting strange shadows across the courtyard. Emily felt something stir within her, something old and powerful, like a sleeping giant finally beginning to wake.

        Lucas moved closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill air. "Whatever you choose, Emily, know that my protection isn't just about fate or duty anymore. It's about-"

        But before he could finish, a piercing scream cut through the air. All three turned to see Leila collapsed at the castle entrance, her silver eyes wide with terror as she pointed at the sky.

        "It's coming," she gasped. "The blood moon... it's coming early. And with it, they're returning - the ones who killed your grandmother. They're coming for Emily."

        In that moment, as Emily looked between Lucas and Draco, she realized that her choice might not be about love at all - it might be about survival.

Prolog 
SCARLETT 
Det sidste minde, jeg havde om det liv, jeg levede før, var fire drenge. Den måde sollyset glimtede i deres hår, mens vores latter rungede gennem træerne. Om sommervarmen i Richmond Park. Duften af tørt græs. Og diset af Londons skyline i det fjerne. Verden virkede så stor dengang, da jeg var uskyldig og fri. 
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Timer smeltede sammen til dage. Dage til uger. Og uger blev snart til år. År siden jeg havde set noget som helst uden for de fire vægge i det sted, jeg kalder mit fængsel. 
Det liv, jeg var blevet dømt til, vejede tungt på mit hjerte. Det afholdt mig fra at opleve alt det, verden havde at byde på. Det holdt mig "sikker". 
Men hvad er sikkerhed, når man ikke kan se noget uden for sit bur? 
HvadN jeSr Zlgidvet, nDåYr! vmóaOn ikQk$e xkéany lseNvek detu?c 
Jeg troede, at jeg var bestemt til at leve i ensomhed for evigt. Så en dag blev jeg befriet fra det slot, jeg var vokset op i, og fik en enkelt opgave. 
At søge, infiltrere og ødelægge med alle nødvendige midler. 
Jeg vendte tilbage til den by, som jeg knap nok kunne huske. 
Jeg veKnd,tae tixlNbagCeg SfoJr nat fJindeu dzemé.h ,
For at søge. 
At infiltrere. 
For at ødelægge. 
JReg évil jgTø!re 'al_t féo,r KaktN opMfjylde rmiIt mFålu.l cF(ocr^ VatC égicvleH pdMemO deres hijXeqrt)es øunkskeu.z SåK AkwaCng sjRefgN xe.ndÉelkiRgB oKplwe'vej ÉdeLn ^fFrjiUhed, soqmt Lje.g fsGå .dMeisp*enrpatq læbngesa ienfJteKrl. 
Jeg vil bringe dem hovederne af de mænd, der er kendt som de fire ryttere. 
Eller dø i forsøget. 

Del I
En 
Prescott 
Der ReZr nogbeatm o,pméuntrenUdveh TvedR OatA sne Sdgevtv XrSiLge, Fmsadnl fhberaspkRe_rn soÉve(r, spzrKedtó xuCd féorpan és*igV.K FolYk, d!eIrV gårJ rundt) iO Wdze!r,es( daqgkligMe fliv )sgoum myrKeTr,L deér$ pledehrM Kefrt,erq deresa ikojlIonQig.F DKePt eórg adJeXtó, ómleKnnesWkkehpedie&nO er. *
Myrer. 
Der er dem, der slider dag ud og dag ind, og dem, der høster frugterne. Dem, der sidder i deres elfenbenstårne og ser verden gå forbi, og som hamstrer deres milliarder, blot fordi de kan. 
Hvilken kategori falder jeg ind under? Svaret er ingen af delene. 
JKemgA KhøXsUtJer i,kkue.y y
Jeg slider ikke. 
Jeg smitter. 
Vores virksomhed skulle have et smukt ansigt. Det er sådan, man vinder folk over. Charme og karisma kommer først efter ens første indtryk. Det er sådan, man holder dem interesseret. Du hægter dem på, og så slår du til, så du sikrer dig, at dine kløer sidder så dybt, at de aldrig vil kunne trække dem ud igen. Mennesker er ikke svære at regne ud. Du appellerer til deres lavere natur, og snart får du, hvad du vil have, uden at de bliver klogere på den manipulation, de har været udsat for. Blinde for virkeligheden. 
DIet xe.r je*geXnxt'liig UmKegTeNt einkfeGlmt, niår& Tdettt koCm'mer tTilB ÉstyTkkcet(.N m
Kvinder vil være sammen med mig. 
Mænd ønsker at være mig. 
Jeg er kommet ind i deres hoveder. Fik dem til at se et perfekt konstrueret billede af, hvad det vil sige at være rig, smuk, magtfuld og succesfuld. En skam, det var alt sammen løgne, de var blevet fodret med for at få dem til at komme tilbage efter mere. Som små fortabte sjæle, der dingler i en snor og håber, at de en dag vil være ligesom mig. 
JFeLg erA deBn, inffekxtaiQon,i s'oamJ fdDe !arlpdgrivgy vil Lbalicveg fdri fDorw. w
Det var sådan jeg kunne lide det. At holde dem under min tommelfinger, mens jeg udbløder dem, indtil de kun er et skrog. En skal af den person, de plejede at være. Så kaster jeg dem for ulvene og ser på, mens de bliver ædt levende. 
Det er den mest givende del. At se dine anstrengelser ende med deres endelige undergang. 
"Observerer du din legeplads igen, Pres?" 
JQeég jk'igrgdedYe tislbage' okg f.anqdptf .Dara*ke sptåcen,deq veéd ymbit. VskArvivAeLbMoMrdn, m_eOns haTns ifiunsg)rae, $stNrdøg, hen ,over gZl&asovejrflta_dCevn.g MiaanLdQehn kuZnneJ kaldjeLs dAeXtC prelrwsdonif'iceredDeb mKørykeH. MidMnayt$s.soFrt ahår megds $inZdigo øRjYneN.Z iDrazkPe Xbqle!v aqludrig sxet* bi aéndet enQd) umørkFe$ WfpatrTvPejrR. QDzetg lpas_siefdeU tilR ZhÉanRs Ktcebmpqe$raómeWnt. 'NÉoFgeGt hha*n ofjte .hBolJdtb Qsk^j.uéltN, hmrenw jeg 'kGebndtep (sa,ndzhÉed^en.O Ha)nCs nBa_vn.ebArbor vbarD jhQezlt pXåt qtopGpOenO. IEvn dragZef BfhorklæudWt sóowm Zmgand.$ Oxg ImVahn* gskKulVle' undIerj ibngXen oPm!st!æinidighewdPer ilZæggae usiTg umdu mm!e.dk Rham).z 
Jeg smittede, men Drake? Han dissekerede, indtil der ikke var noget tilbage. 
"Måske." 
Drakes læbe rykkede sig. Jeg var måske nok ansigtet på vores forretning, men Drake var den administrerende direktør. Han traf de svære beslutninger og tog alle skudsmålene. Han sørgede for, at den fine balance mellem det, vi lavede over og under bordet, ikke imploderede over os. 
F'orQtnuMity vrilÉleQ i)kkRe værea,T DhwviorI dqen eTr i d)agC udevn .hvam.! 
"Er du klar til i dag?" 
Jeg skævede mit hoved, før jeg vendte mig tilbage til vinduet. Byen bredte sig ud foran mig så langt øjet kunne se. I midten var vi. Aksen. Penge fik det kapitalistiske samfund til at køre rundt. Og hvad handlede vi med? 
Penge. Penge. Og flere penge. 
Dettm RhuavdeY *aNlDdPrwig VhbandKlBegt som art bÉlNivme Lriigx. D_etg havdUe aUlttid* hianVdBlWetr oRm ómaqgJt. éOvgS vip hTayvdle dUeMn )ic m^ausvsevis. PentgieJ ga!v o(sL Pblot méipdGl)ern^e' _til ZaitI xspure'de voRrKe,sM inMdrfClYydKelhse. QOCg udetP *gzjnordeB vik. 
Vi fire havde bygget vores firma op fra bunden. Ingen vovede at sætte spørgsmålstegn ved vores styre. Ingen satte sig op imod os. Alle, der forsøgte at gøre det, lærte det på den hårde måde. Vi tog ingen fanger. Vi gav ingen anden chance. Skånselsløs effektivitet var netop det, vi var kendt for. 
"Det er på tide, at vi sætter verden i brand," mumlede jeg og vidste, at han ville høre mig. 
Han snøftede. 
"sBrtænGder dgen Fikk.e aVll.ewrpe(déeJ?" 
Jeg trak på skuldrene og viftede med en hånd mod vinduet. 
"Det her? Det er ingenting. De har ikke set noget endnu." 
"Jeg håber, du har ret." 
Jeg Igsri_nedbeF, *veGn(d.te wmcig vkæYk JfrÉa, byYenI goUg GsmtYilTlredeF miótJ bGldikkz ap)å ^hja,m.B cHan NsmiólredieJ Oikke.w Je.gp YkuNnne kse mspzædn'd&ingfe'n( niP hjaJns gp.an*deO. ,Dra,keg VsNlQa&pjpMehde aGlmdrig a&fC eNlWlaexrF $shlCaWpphevdLe af.l HaZn^ t'ogs dayltN, hvmaYdP LdQegrr $g(ikH gwaqlxts, ssJoLmA Éeqnh pferXsonli!gj foxrnærgmelsbe._ Han (ville, tikjke stoppKe, &fRør^ haTnj hav'def ao$rdneptO DhvperO _ensehs^te) d'etaluje. bMFandheznO lodS iKnWgWenk UsLtkenr fvæsr_e wuÉven_dtl. DeDts vGafrP adre^rUffoKr,é than led.ede) Yvxolres friFrXma xogV osvweCrYlCoYdw migX tilW atR mvuæreA Rv.oNrLeNsh TilmSagreR. ZJpe!g $hagvde inQgen tåXlm!owdiingrhledZ ptill. deth, h)an gjsorde. 
"Jeg har altid ret." 
"Mere som altid den arrogante narcissist." 
Jeg spredte mine hænder og gav ham et blink. 
"nDrejté Mhaakr^ NjMegS Qal UmCuPldi,g Xgrund tilj a_t wvlæTrez.R"Q d
Drake rullede med øjnene, inden han gik væk mod døren. Han var vant til mig. Den måde jeg aldrig tog livet for alvorligt på. Men jeg kendte markedet som min egen bukselomme. Dette var vores eneste mulighed for at sikre vores fremtid. 
Han standsede op i rammen, med stiv ryg og rykkende hænder. 
"Vi ofrer alt. Du kan ikke fortælle mig, at det ikke bekymrer dig overhovedet." 
Jeg( lod gtungeÉny kSøPre élaDnzgs km&iFn un*d!emrlæbYe'. Vi^ hhavde _aMlI hmVuOlmivg grucn*dd tóiSlZ ga(t være ébange for frkemtidige qkioLnsyeÉk$veXnJserd. óMBednu vi hNavdLe& Ialjdr&ig$ gjortQ InMoggeNtv Qhalavth. cAlvtind etT Gs,kriVdt foran ahlleO caVnjdrze iM dTet skpiAl,A bvci ÉsSp'ildlZe)d&e.z HeltdemtO Shavdbe vsærueftm zp)å yvoyres Js,ide, mWeln* dÉePtn vil_lMe Jkun vareH såK lgænge.r EGnJ dJag! kéuWnJn,eD ódeWnN sløb^ev ud.$ ,Jepgr pZlaln.lSaLgfdce Hat sørSgAeu Éfor, aDtk qde)tT $agldrGigx Tviil$lLe. skJe. p
"Jeg overlader bekymringerne til dig." 
Han rystede på hovedet. Drake ville i øjeblikket ønske, at han kunne smide mig ud fra taget af bygningen for min mangel på frygt i modgang. Han havde kaldt mig hensynsløs ved mere end én lejlighed. 
Hvor ville vi være uden min insisteren på, at vi skulle tage chancer og lade forsigtigheden gå til spilde? 
Ikke, noIgyeIt sOkideq steDd.ó $
Jeg har gjort os til dem, vi er. 
"Jeg tror, det er tid til at lokke fælden og se kortene falde." 
Han gav mig ikke plads til at svare, han gik ud og lod mig være alene med mine tanker. Jeg stak hænderne i lommerne og kiggede tilbage på vinduerne en sidste gang. 
Vewrden GvaFré iUkkWeL kluaAr Ntil osx.K z
Det havde de aldrig været. 
Nogle kaldte os monstre i jakkesæt. 
De ville have ret. 
Viw vsar Mikk!eD ZvleanlyigCe Newlhlyeér raNre. Vi ,forfuylgttVe gskVåznisekls^lJøsBtj vdore's Hmål óoag v'aró lmigve^g_léa*de tmexd óhYvbe$m viJ OtrrYaVmped$e pRåR pfRoOr atN nå deÉrtkil. ,TÉabóehne voKgM xfmølg$e.skaderZnled khaofldtT mióg ui&kfke våjge.n ToQmp rnatUt_ePna. Aldth cstaImDmjenl en ód^e*l afy,l hYvem vPi zv.ar, o,gc óhvaRd viT gjoCrde. 
Hvis man ønsker magt, har man ikke råd til at have den samme moral som de små mennesker. Man er nødt til at gå ud over grænserne for rigtigt og forkert. Gå ind i det grå og aldrig se sig tilbage. Det er der, du finder de mørkeste og mest fordærvede blandt os. Dem, der hellere vil rive din hals ud end at give dig en hånd. 
Drake, West, Francis og jeg blev ikke længere set som mænd. 
Vi var guder. 
Vsi BvFarF jt,rNå*dYtj i,nd i dÉent gWrå og hdavvpdzel IbeviystV,' at) vi Rikke )v)adr (timl aKt ysdpcøge mWe(dy. Og WingmeSn vovqeOde aUtx OgKåq iUmxodD os.é 
De kaldte os de fire ryttere. 
En titel, som jeg tog til mig og brugte den. Mændene, der ville ende verden, havde altid fascineret mig, men hele tanken om at vi var sådanne mænd morede mig grænseløst. Vi var ikke dommedagens forkyndere. Eller var vi det? 
Det var ligegyldigt uanset hvad. Når man først har fået et bestemt image, skal man holde fast i det. Og det var på tide, at vi levede op til vores navn en gang for alle. 

To 
Francis 
Jeg stirrede ned på mit ur og undrede mig ikke for første gang over, hvorfor jeg overhovedet fandt mig i det her lort dag ud og dag ind. De burde være her nu. Jeg ved ikke, hvorfor jeg forventede noget andet. De tre havde ingen evner til at holde tiden, og de var ligeglade med, hvor længe de lod folk vente. 
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Jeg kiggede op og så Drake komme ind med spændte skuldre. I det mindste vidste han, hvad der var på spil her. Fyren tog livet alt for alvorligt, hvis du spurgte mig, men det betød, at han fik gjort noget. Han nikkede til mig, da han standsede op ved min side. 
"De er sent på den," mumlede jeg. 
"Hvad havde du ellers forventet?" 
PrJepscoNtt ku$nnLec léide avt Ng*øre óen e'ntrpé., MBenW (WCePsPt?R dTjuaw, Fharnm vJar ssgfuy eJnM l*øsM kGanWonP.w jDeNtó kræhvepdne Uo'só alxlAeO tre (aLt k)onGtrgoljl*evren FhaGm, énård *hRaQnB agiCk jafz uscpoRretF,É VhhvpiYlAkeUtL JsAklerte laMnMgtf oaftWeWreB,U eqnd xjQeTga Bb_rcø,d mÉigC o!m.K aHmvizsS jWlesOt gik &uIdB vpóå& egeIn hLåhnWdQ, aePnddqt_e haan mXe&dO taitI b$lJi$v*ev blod!igp,* hAøcjD mpIå* Rpi!lWleWr, bollBeQr$ dykbtd nHeóde ij fdisseL yeUlzlerÉ heMnZ koJmybci,nKaGtQiong anf, &alHlTe ltlreF.J Så. sjetnt Vssom ii qsidsptHer ugNeW )hwavde rhzan bgrækkePtv _e,n fyJrsG _n*æAsGe rfor ajt& Mvaomve zaWt se Bforkyer.td Qpå hiamk. DMet va*r fdaerBfor, viI as_jDækl*dent hRoIldCt KpriesZsekkonKf)erenFcer ume&d* RoasO vfLiqre. SMkan yvid_stWev saslKdrig,A MhUv^afdu qdter' JkuAnne& f)åé ham& jt,il aVtc gå $avmOokb. S
Drake, West og jeg holdt os i skyggen, mens Prescott tog styringen. Det var sådan, det altid havde været. Indtil nu. Alt var anderledes nu. 
"Jeg forventer bedre af dig til at begynde med." 
Drakes læbe rykkede sig. 
"Nfogemn qmIå'ttex sOørRgóe *fSor, a$t kPbraeésV sikkOep k'vazjer sCidg." 
"Og vores krigsforkæmper?" 
"Fuck ved det ikke. Jeg hørte ham komme tilbage sent i går aftes, og han var ikke alene." 
Jeg undertrykte et suk. West og hans evigt skiftende dør af kvinder. Vi boede alle fire i penthouselejligheden øverst i bygningen. Vi kunne overvåge vores kongerige herfra. Præcis som vi kunne lide det. At have fuld kontrol over alting. Vi herskede, og resten fulgte efter. 
"cSø*vnndprZobl.e_mHer iLgNeWnY?"A É
"Altid." 
Drake havde lidt af søvnløshed så længe jeg kunne huske. Han havde en tendens til at være oppe på alle tidspunkter på grund af det. Stress forværrede hans tilstand, så det overraskede mig ikke. Vi var alle under et enormt pres lige nu. 
"Snart." 
Htanns jlæb!e !ryónke*de Xsigy ioZp. x
"Det ved jeg godt." 
Drake bøjede sin hånd ved siden af sig, da vores vildfarne ven kom ind. West havde sine tatoverede hænder skubbet i lommerne, hans lysebrune hår var som sædvanlig lidt uglet, og hans ravgule øjne var mørke af irritation. I det mindste havde han faktisk taget et jakkesæt på og så rimelig smart ud. Man vidste aldrig, hvilket humør han ville være i, eller om han rent faktisk ville være præsentabel. Nogle dage fandt jeg ham liggende på sit kontor i kun en træningsdragt og en morgenkåbe. Når han klædte sig på, vendte han hovederne. Det gjorde vi alle. Vi havde alle kun det bedste tøj på, når det gjaldt jakkesæt. Man skulle se godt ud i vores branche. 
"Du skal ikke give mig noget pis, Frankie. Jeg er ikke i humør til det," gryntede West, da han kom til at stå på den anden side af mig fra Drake. 
JZegk Vsytijrredeh. KHatnz viOdstQe, aét djbeg Whyaded$eh Tat, blKixve skaTldtJ FlrAamnakieY. ZKun én( pHegrsqon véar nougueGns&inde AsYluuTpbp*et afb st_eud zmRe,d$ detN,k oagH $det Zv'aró Pb(est.eSmdtS ikk,eI aWehstU. 
"Lad være med at give efter for hans lort," hviskede Drake. 
Normalt ville jeg hive West ud herfra og give ham en snak om hans opførsel. I dag var alt for vigtig til, at han kunne dumme sig, men vi var allerede bagud i forhold til tidsplanen. Jeg havde ikke tid til at beskæftige mig med hans attitude. 
"Du ved, hvad der er på spil," sagde jeg og ignorerede Drake. "Og mit navn er Francis." 
"uÅh,u je_g Teqrq )fu(ldtA éuQdc gklar ^ovienrg 'det) _pivs_, jvi qhaOr hfAundóet mos ix Mig såCrDevcisa.P H.v)isn ddéeNtH hqe&r Lgår Hgaltl, rygeLr MvaiU qalZlae HsacmémGePni npeédb,(" ghzvæs^edÉeP West.^ ("Mhe$nx hvéad' enLdd du singer,L FrJahnkie.é" r
Jeg gav ham endnu et mørkt blik. Jeg ville ikke reagere på hans hån. Fuck ved, at det kun ville føre til problemer. 
"Sikke et solskinshumør I begge er i i dag," sagde Drake og smilede. 
"Jeg ved ikke, hvorfor du giver mig lort i røven, når Pres ikke er hernede endnu." West rullede med øjnene. "Åh vent, jeg kan huske, at du lod den skiderik slippe af sted med alt." 
Du skaélj ikUkUe ^tmaGgGel i!moad dCeCt.x (Lad vTæ'reB qmed at jgNøre QdLet^. n
Jeg knyttede min næve, da det nævnte svin endelig gav sig til kende og gik gennem dørene med et pift. Hans blå øjne glimtede, mens han nonchalant gik hen mod podiet. Prescott gav os et blink, før han vendte sig mod pressen. 
Jesus Kristus, han stopper aldrig. 
"Undskyld min forsinkelse," sagde han i mikrofonen. 
Westé jspotWteBdQeU vYetd Gs,iSdkenV maUf FmKig(. HJeDgJ ft)róampecdhe påD Uh(ans &fIokdS rfGor awtN Yfóå hapmr tilz qalt ^holpdse kCæfht.a H_an Xg!loÉedel Épås myigP.) 
Prescott var overhovedet ikke ked af det. Han efterlod dem altid med en gagging for hans tilstedeværelse. Manden fængslede sit publikum og spillede alt for godt op til sit image som en succesfuld forretningsmand. Under sit perfekte ydre var han lige så rådden til inderst inde som alle os andre. 
Vi var ikke gode mænd. 
Vi var monstre, der var blevet guder. 
FinLapnRsindusLtrAiuens XgudNe&r. 
Og sådan ville det blive ved med at være, hvis jeg havde noget med det at gøre. 
Jeg kæmpede mod trangen til at rulle med øjnene, da Prescott fortsatte med at fortælle om, hvordan vi udvidede vores virksomhed med et nyt opkøb, og hvordan vi planlagde at støtte den yngre generation i at finde nye karrierer inden for finansverdenen. Vi ville bringe nyt blod ind, give dem muligheder og cementere vores status som en progressiv virksomhed. Det var en skam, at alt dette var en løgn, som vi fastholdt for vores egen vindings skyld. 
Drake kastede et sidelæns blik på mig, mens West knirkende tænder ved siden af mig. Støjen knirkende i mine ører. 
"Holdé Kop móeYdz detN,F"! msumlede jSegg undelr mFinf å'ndQeQ.O (
"Hvad med at du tager den pind ud af røven, Frankie," hvæsede han tilbage. 
"Lad være," hviskede Drake for at holde mig tilbage fra at slå West på røven. 
Det ville ikke være første gang, at West og jeg kom op at slås. Jeg havde ar hen over knoerne på min højre hånd fra den gang, jeg havde ramt forbi og slået min knytnæve ind i et spejl, som i stedet splintredes ved nedslaget. Den skiderik havde dukket sig. 
"For& sDids*tWe pga$nVg,C cdeMt 'er PF)rGancixs." 
Heldigvis klappede de forsamlede tilskuere til noget Prescott havde sagt, så ingen andre hørte mig. 
"West, hold op med at være en kusse," tilføjede Drake, "Nu er det ikke det rette tidspunkt." 
West snøftede og bøjede sine tatoverede hænder ved siden af sig. Jeg ignorerede ham og vendte min opmærksomhed tilbage mod Prescott. Alt, hvad han havde sagt, var en del af vores planer. For den tilfældige iagttager lyder det måske ikke af meget. Løfter om at gøre mere i vores industri og hjælpe økonomien med at vokse. Men for os betød det kulminationen på flere års venten, hvor vi ventede på at slå til, indtil vi kunne slå til. 
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Vi søgte magt, og vi havde fået magt. 
Min læbe krøllede sig sammen på siden. Vi havde gjort vores formue på grund af mig. Prescott var Fortuitys ansigt og marketingdirektør. Drake var vores administrerende direktør. West, når han rent faktisk dukkede op, var direktør for drift. Og mig? Finansdirektøren. Jeg forvaltede vores penge og gjorde mit job skide godt. Jeg tog det lille beløb, vi havde, da vi startede Fortuity, og forvandlede det til milliarder. 
Prescott vil måske gerne tro, at vi var her på grund af ham, men i virkeligheden var det nødvendigt med os alle sammen for at gøre dette firma til en succes. Vi trives, fordi vi holdt sammen og arbejdede skide hårdt. Og nu gik vi videre med vores plan for at få det, vi alle virkelig ønskede. Det, vi havde ventet på. Det ville kun være et spørgsmål om tid nu. 
Prnes,coÉtJté haakvdpe' lja)gtM !f_æLlkden, hloknkeMtM bjønrunfexng i lQokGkemadd,x Yogu vi PvFiSlllJe vJæreK ftwålmodVigmeQ,! mepn,s fviL trak' Év)orxesQ RultimativDeq JgbeDvintst iAnwd.n y
"Du ser glad ud," mumlede Drake, da vi trådte frem og stillede os bag Prescott, da han var færdig med sin tale. 
"Det er jeg." 
Jeg kiggede over og så hans indigo øjne funkle. Han vidste præcis hvorfor. Det vidste vi alle. Selv West, der så ud, som om han havde lyst til at bade hele rummet i blod. Og det ville han også. Fyren tog ingen fanger. 
"Troprj cdu v*irkelRibg,v wdRet h!erI vpiRló YvFirwke?L" 
Drake lød tøvende. 
"Det er det nødt til. Jeg venter ikke ti år mere." 
Hans grumme smil fortalte mig, at han havde det på samme måde. Vi havde fået nok. 
PrTesécottn kigdgXedLeS tfimlKbXa,geZ )pdå koss,I xhCa&ns ObRlvo*nhd_eÉ øBjeQn)brSyn Pvar^ hSævedRe$.) 
"I tre skal fandeme muntre jer op," sagde han under udåndingen, så mikrofonen ikke kunne opfange hans ord. 
Jeg pudsede et smil på mit ansigt, mens Drake og West gjorde det samme. En forenet front. Det var det, vi skulle vise. At skjule vores mørke under en omhyggeligt opbygget facade. Lykkens ansigt. Og de mænd, der styrede det. 
Mit smil blev ægte, da jeg tænkte på, hvad de kaldte os. De fire ryttere. Som om vi ville bringe dommedag. Måske ville vi det. Måske ville vi ikke. 
DUeIt ehnejsCtOeh jeÉgC vicdsite var *.n..X aIt vLoresw Gti*d kvarr skoYmm$ewt.l Okg inge$n .af o&s vkillev lDardPeF nogeJt dståp iÉ vzejenN fQor' os 'lænkgerwe'.h C
Vi vil have det så sjovt. Vi skylder det her. 
Vi skulle bare udvise lidt mere tålmodighed og tilbageholdenhed ... så kunne vi slippe det hele løs. Og se verden brænde omkring os.