The Vampire King's Warning

Kael Valois POV

As one of my men drew near, I ordered, my voice sharper than usual, "Speak."

He hunched his head and fell to one knee. "There has been a breach, my king. At the Northern border, a pack of werewolves was observed. The granary was raided. went away into the woods after taking what they could.

I felt a dark rage rise inside of me the instant he said those words. Every vampire in my immediate vicinity fell to their knees in automatic submission as my aura shattered the court like lightning.

Werewolves.

Since they betrayed us, we had been rivals for as long as I could remember. because they killed my parents. I was born and raised on vengeance. For it, I bled. It was something that I lived for. I searched for it.

“Ready the guards. We ride for the border,” I said, standing from my throne and turning on my heel toward my chambers.

The treaty we’d signed with the werewolves years ago meant nothing to me personally. I’d agreed to it for political balance, for the sake of my people—but I had one rule written in blood: trespassers die. And lately, the wolves had been testing me far too often.

I suited up in silence, buckling on each piece of armor like a ritual. Before leaving, I glanced up at the portrait of my parents. Their eyes—forever frozen in paint—seemed to follow me, a reminder of what was taken.

“Going to war again, my king?” came a sultry voice behind me.

Lianna.

She slid her arms around my neck, pulling me into a kiss that was all heat and no heart. We’d been lovers for years—friends with benefits in a world where love meant weakness. I’d never found my mate, and she hadn’t either, so we made do with what we had. No promises. No marks.

“There was a breach,” I said. “Werewolves at the Northern border.”

She bit her lower lip, a look that usually drove me wild.

And this time was no different.

I grabbed her, lifted her effortlessly, and threw her onto the bed. Her dress tore under my hands, her moans spilling into the air as I kissed and marked her skin. Lust took over. The way she writhed beneath me, the way her body responded—it pulled something primal from me.

But afterward, as we lay tangled in the sheets, something unexpected crept in.

Disgust.

Not at her. Not at the act. But at myself.

It was like something inside me recoiled—like my soul had caught up to my body and hated what it found. I’d never felt guilt after being with her. Never questioned it. But now…

Something had changed.

I dressed in silence. She watched me with confusion, but I said nothing.

As I stepped into the corridor, my seer was waiting—of course he was.

“Matif,” I said. “Out with it.”

“The tides have changed,” he murmured. “And the cold king will burn.”

Then, as always, he vanished into the shadows before I could demand clarity. Cryptic bastard.

With a clenched jaw and a restless heart, I headed for the training grounds. My soldiers were already assembled, waiting for orders.

“These mutts crossed into our land and stole from us,” I began, loud and clear. “Today, we answer that insult with blood.”

I mapped out the attack. “Group A takes the west flank. Group B, east. Group C, the south. I’ll lead Group D from the north. No survivors. Let this be the last time any of them dare step into our kingdom.”

A chorus of snarls and growls followed as the guards half-shifted and launched into the night, blurs of speed and shadows.

“Lucien,” I spoke through the mind-link as we ran. “Give me a sitrep.”

“Twelve rogues, my king. No crest. No allegiance.”

I arrived at the granary and saw the destruction for myself. The scent of wolf blood was thick in the air. Strong. They were powerful, experienced. Not your usual scattered rogues.

We tracked them quickly—straight into an ambush. Group A was already engaged in battle when I arrived. Without hesitation, I joined the fray.

Claws extended. Blood spilled.

I tore through them, one by one, with savage precision. Hearts were ripped from chests. Screams echoed into the night.

Only one remained when the dust settled.

“Who sent you?” I demanded, my voice cold, my claws pressed to his throat.

“No one,” he rasped.

I sliced his jugular cleanly and watched him bleed out.

“Lucien,” I called. “Hang the bodies along the border. Let this be a message to every wolf out there. Trespass, and this is your fate.”

He nodded grimly.

Then I felt it.

A shift.

A strange ripple in the air—raw, ancient magic thrumming against my senses. The ocean near the border trembled, the tide unstable. I closed my eyes and listened. Something wrong was stirring, like the world itself had changed its rhythm.

I sniffed the air—magic. Not the kind I knew. Older. Wilder. And for some reason, it pulled at something deep inside me.

Without waiting, I returned to the capital and stormed into Matif’s quarters. He was—unsurprisingly—midway through another carnal ritual.

He scrambled to dress. “My apologies, my king—”

“My chambers. Now.”

I didn’t wait. He followed in silence.

Inside, I turned to him, my voice sharp. “The sea is restless. Magic’s off balance. What the hell is going on?”

He smiled. Always that damn smile.

“The tides have changed,” he repeated. “And the cold king will burn.”

I slammed my fist into the nearby table. It splintered.

“Enough riddles, Matif! Explain it.”

But he just stood there, calm as ever.

And repeated again, word for word:

“The tides have changed. And the cold king will burn.”