"Now, all this aside we're packing and leaving," Virelle said, raising her voice as she stood in the centre of the room, hands on her hips. "And remember, this won't be easy like 'our little adventures' before. We're going to join the people. And when I say join the people, I mean working, struggling, and putting food on the table. Am I clear?"
Riven looked up, his eyes wide, voice small but hopeful. "Does that mean… I can go to school?"
Virelle blinked, caught off guard, but before she could answer, Freya stepped in, her voice gentle. "Of course you'll go to school," she said, smiling at him and then glancing at Virelle with soft surprise.
Her heart fluttered strangely, her head felt heavy. 'When did I become a parent?' she thought.
Riven beamed, his little hands clutching the straps of his worn bag. And for the first time, their mission felt like more than survival. It felt like home. At sunset, the four stood at the edge of the road, bags packed and hearts steady. The sky burned gold and orange above them, casting long shadows behind.
Without looking back, they took their first steps forward Virelle leading with quiet resolve, Freya beside her, still adjusting to the weight of care, Sir Gavin grumbling with his usual flair, and little Riven skipping just a step behind, his eyes full of dreams. They weren't chasing glory this time.
They were walking into real life and together but they were ready.
Flop! Bodies fell one after the other, thudding against the forest floor. A thick, metallic stench of blood filled the air, creeping into the trees like smoke. He wrinkled his nose, more out of irritation than disgust.
"These creatures never learn," he muttered, wiping crimson off his blade with calm precision. His eyes, red as dying embers, glowed faintly under the moonlight. At his feet lay mangled werewolf scouts reckless, younger ones by the look of it. Not strong enough to lead, just foolish enough to cross into his territory.
A rustle in the shadows caught his ear. "You can come out," he said coldly. "I counted five heartbeats. Two are still trying to play dead." A trembling voice rose behind a tree. "W-We were sent… not to fight. Just to scout. We didn't mean to provoke your coven."
He turned slowly, eyes narrowing. "Then why cross the crimson border with weapons drawn?"
No answer.
"Exactly." He stepped over a twitching body and crouched before the speaker a young werewolf, barely shifted, eyes wide with terror. "I don't care what your alpha told you. Cross my land again…" His fangs lengthened ever so slightly. "…and I'll decorate the trees with your bones."
The terrified werewolves didn't wait to be told twice. Given the chance, they bolted some tripping over roots, others nearly colliding with trees in their desperate escape. It was almost pitiful… Almost.
Umbra slinked from the shadows, his dark, sleek form curling neatly beside Kael's feet. The great black wolf sat with calm dignity, his eyes scanning the treeline as if amused.
A man stepped forward, cloaked in court robes, and bowed with practiced grace. "Lord Kael," he said carefully, "the officials are requesting your presence at court."
Kael's frown was immediate, sharp. Of course they were. He didn't need to ask why. Whenever they couldn't control him, they summoned him like a beast on a chain. What annoyed him most wasn't the court itself it was their constant interference with the only thing that still felt real.
The man hesitated, and then added in a quieter tone, "He said… you should think carefully about your next choices. So they don't cost 'her' life." Kael's jaw clenched. That cunning fox always knew exactly where to strike always reached for the heart he pretended wasn't there.
Without a word, Kael vanished just a wisp of shadow and silence in the wind. The man blinked, stunned by how quickly he'd gone. Even Umbra had disappeared without a sound, as if the forest had swallowed them both whole. And in the clearing, only the blood remained.
Most people imagined a vampire's castle to be drenched in blood dark, decayed, and lifeless. But Zareth's castle stood like a crown carved from obsidian and moonlight. Tall black towers kissed the clouds, windows glinting like sharpened glass. Ivy climbed its walls, silver in the pale light. Everything was precise, beautiful, and cold like something that didn't breathe but still watched.
Inside, the silence was thicker than the stone. Servants didn't speak unless spoken to. Their footsteps made no sound on the polished black marble floors. Candles glowed blue with cold flames. It didn't smell of blood or rot it smelled like frost and metal. Like war.
Kael walked the long corridor alone, his cloak trailing behind. At the grand door, two knights bowed low and pushed it open.
The council room was lit only by the central chandelier, a swirling cage of crystals and silver bats. At the round table sat the heads of noble houses, each with the power to influence the kingdom.
"Lord Kael Virellius," one of the elders spoke, "You were summoned to discuss… the matter of a marriage alliance." The word marriage echoed louder than it should have. Kael's jaw tightened, but he remained calm.
"Your name," the head chancellor continued, "has been paired with Astrid Dros. Her bloodline is strong, noble and she… is loyal."
Across the table, Astrid smiled beautiful, deadly, and completely sure of herself. Kael didn't return the smile.
"Is this a command," he asked slowly, "or a request?"
Silence.
The tension was colder than the wind outside. The council wanted loyalty. But Kael…Kael wanted freedom.
Kael walked out of the chamber, each step heavier than the last. The halls were quiet, but the pressure from the meeting clung to his shoulders like a cloak of thorns.
He didn't stop walking until he reached the high balcony at the far end of the castle. From here, the whole of Zareth stretched beneath the night sky silent forests, pale rivers, the silver rooftops of a kingdom that still feared its own rulers.
He gripped the cold stone railing, his knuckles pale. 'Astrid'…
It wasn't that she was unworthy. She was powerful, sharp, adored by the court. But Kael felt nothing when he looked at her. Nothing but the pressure of chains tightening. His thoughts drifted—uninvited—toward a smile far more stubborn than refined. Freya. Wild, complicated, kind. A queen by accident, a fire by nature. She didn't fit into his world—but maybe that's why he couldn't stop thinking of her.
He closed his eyes.
"I won't be caged," he whispered into the wind, his voice lost to the night.
Behind him, a raven landed on the railing, watching silently. A message would come soon. They always did.