The air inside the war chamber was thick with tension. The great oak table, worn by years of strategy and blood-soaked decisions, was surrounded by Lycans—warriors, elders, and advisors—all in heated debate. Voices overlapped each other, growls of frustration echoing against the stone walls."He marked the vampire princess!" one warrior spat. "Does he even realize what that means?""It was a power move," another argued. "He humiliated the Vampire King’s daughter, let them choke on their own pride.""Pride be damned, this means war! We’ve been at the brink for decades, and now—"The large doors at the front of the chamber creaked open and just like that, all voices ceased. The room fell into absolute silence as Draven stepped in.His presence alone commanded obedience. The muscles on his tattooed arms flexed with every step he took. Most of his long white hair was let loose, parts of it braided. He wore his signature necklace decorated with teeth from every single lycan he had defeated
Draven’s body still hung in the air, Valerion’s grip like an iron vice around his throat.The Vampire King’s red eyes burned with pure, unrelenting wrath.Draven’s lips curled into a bloody smirk. Even with Valerion’s fingers crushing his windpipe, he did not yield.The grip on Draven’s throat loosened—not fully, but just enough for the Alpha to wrench himself free. He landed on the ground in a crouch, shoulders heaving, his blue eyes locking onto Azrael."She stopped him," Draven thought to himself. "Why?"She stood there, still in the regal black gown, but the fabric was torn, stained with her blood. The ballroom’s torches cast flickering shadows over her, illuminating the faint, angry mark on her neck.His mark.Draven’s jaw tightened.Something primal twisted in his chest at the sight of her wearing it. But there was no time for that now.He tilted his head back and howled.The sound ripped through the ballroom like a war cry, a command. Every lycan in the chamber immediately resp
The ballroom had become a war zone. Blood stained the once pristine marble floors, the chandeliers swayed violently from the tremors of battle, and screams and snarls filled the grand chamber like the echoes of a battlefield.The vampires fought with precision and lethal grace, their claws slicing through the air like razors. The Lycans countered with raw strength and savagery, their massive forms tearing through their opponents with relentless brutality.Cyrus ducked just in time.A silver dagger sliced through the air where his throat had been seconds ago. The moment he turned, Raphael was already striking again, his movements swift and precise, his long silver hair dancing in the air as he moved with supernatural speed.Cyrus blocked the next strike with his forearm, the force reverberating through his bones. He countered with a vicious punch aimed at Raphael’s ribs, but the vampire twisted away at the last second, gliding back like a ghost.Their eyes locked and for a moment, neit
For a moment, there was nothing but silence.The ballroom, once filled with music and quiet murmurs of intrigue, now felt suspended in time. Dozens of wide-eyed vampires stood frozen, their pale faces stark with shock. Raphael’s face twisted in pure disbelief. Eva’s lips parted, stunned beyond words. The Lycans, already on edge from being in enemy territory, stiffened as every noble in the room turned their gaze upon Draven.And then, all at once—chaos erupted.Gasps turned to shouts.Wine glasses shattered against marble floors.Azrael barely registered the weight above her before it was suddenly gone. Draven was wrenched away from her by an invisible force, his body lifted and hurled backward with bone-crushing force.The impact was thunderous. Draven slammed into a massive stone pillar, the crack echoing through the ballroom as web-like fractures spread across its surface. A deep, guttural snarl tore from his throat as he staggered forward, shaking off the debris, his vision snappi
The haunting melody of the waltz echoed through the grand ballroom, weaving through the air like a ghostly whisper. The flickering candlelight cast shifting shadows against the dark stone walls, illuminating the swirling figures of elegantly dressed vampires. Yet, despite the grandeur of the celebration, every eye in the room was drawn to a single pair gliding across the floor.Azrael and Draven.Vampires stole glances as they danced, their whispers hushed yet brimming with intrigue. Some moved mechanically, their attention divided between their own partners and the impossible sight before them. The Lycan Alpha, leading the Vampire Princess in a waltz. It was an unthinkable sight, an offense to tradition, a spectacle that neither side could look away from.Azrael was keenly aware of the scrutiny, but it was Draven’s unwavering gaze that unsettled her the most. His blue eyes held something unreadable, something she refused to acknowledge.She sighed, cutting through the silence between
Draven's voice, when he spoke, was quiet yet firm. "You should watch where you're going, Princess."Azrael lifted her chin, regaining some of her composure. "You were in my way."Draven smirked, as if amused by her defiance. "Funny. I was about to say the same thing about you."Azrael exhaled sharply through her nose, irritation flickering in her eyes. "Enjoying yourself, are you?"Draven tilted his head slightly. "Not quite."She frowned. "Then why are you here?"His eyes darkened. "You know why."Her breath caught. A cold knot of dread and something else curled in her stomach. She didn’t want to acknowledge what he meant. She couldn't. So instead, she took a step back, breaking the tension."I'm leaving," she said.But before she could turn, his fingers caught her wrist.Azrael tensed, eyes snapping to his hand gripping her like a tether. A hushed gasp rippled through the room at the sight of it. The murmurs grew louder. The court was watching.Draven leaned in, his voice lower now,