Chapter 28: Predators in the Snow

We all gathered in the open field, our bodies painted head to toe in black. The night swallowed us whole, the snow around us a pale mirror to the darkness of our camouflage. Warriors braided their hair back tightly, black lines tracing sharp angles on their skulls. Weapons glinted under the moonlight—curved swords, throwing knives, spiked clubs, and crossbows. Even the smallest among us carried axes hidden along their belts. The air carried the sharp scent of snow and cold metal, heavy with anticipation.

Timi’s boots crunched against the frozen ground as he paced before us. His eyes, precise and calculating, scanned each soldier. “Are you all ready?” he asked. “If something is wrong, speak now.”

We remained silent, each heartbeat echoing in the quiet.

“Very good, then let’s—” He cut off abruptly, a blur of movement at the field’s edge.

Ayara came charging toward us, her oversized black cloak billowing, blue braid whipping against the wind. She skidded to a stop in front of Timi, panting, face flushed with determination.

“What are you doing here?” Timi demanded.

“I’m going with you!” she snapped.

Timi’s gaze swept over her, cold and assessing. “Have you cleaned up your room?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Have you turned?”

“Turned what?”

“Into a wolf.”

“No. I haven’t… that’s weird, right?” she hesitated.

“If you haven’t turned, you are of no use to us yet. Go back inside.”

“What? Hell no!” she stomped her foot, snow spraying around her boots. “I’m a vampire now! I can help!”

Timi didn’t flinch. He stepped closer. “We don’t know what you are yet. This has never happened. I can’t risk it.”

Ayara swung small fists, barely touching him. He didn’t budge.

“Is this how you plan on attacking the Braves?” he said, voice icy. “With tantrums? Back inside!”

He pushed her hard. She fell, snow coating her cloak. I moved instinctively, ready to intervene—but Juliet gripped my arm, holding me back.

Ayara’s frustration bled into tears, but Timi remained unreadable. Soldiers whispered, eyes darting between the confrontation and the field.

“I know you are all wondering what that was,” Timi finally said, voice cutting through the murmurs. “But there’s no time to explain.”

Before we could react, he sprinted forward, a shadow across the snow. One by one, we followed, the crunch of our boots synchronizing with our racing hearts. Ayara remained behind, small against the white expanse, blue braid flaring like a banner in the wind.

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Miles passed beneath our boots. Snow clung stubbornly to clothing and weaponry, but exhaustion didn’t touch us. Every heartbeat matched Timi’s silent rhythm, every breath synchronized. He moved like a ghost over the uneven plains, and we followed, shadows among shadows. Juliet’s laughter, low and breathless, was a strange melody against the frozen silence.

The soldiers struggled to keep pace, boots sinking, limbs stiff. Timi’s presence drove them beyond their limits.

“We have to keep moving!” he shouted over the wind. “No stopping. Not until we’re on the water!”

Juliet leaned closer. “The prince’s villa is heavily guarded. Every ounce of strength counts. Are you ready, Daniel?”

I nodded. “I’ve been ready since I fed.”

The forest thinned. In the distance, torchlight flickered over hidden docks. Three canoes waited, silent, nestled beneath jagged rocks.

Timi pointed. “One for us—Juliet, Daniel, and me. The others are for soldiers. Keep your blades ready. The Forbidden Sea doesn’t forgive mistakes.”

We slid into the first canoe, the wood cold and biting. Timi and Juliet adjusted oars, muscles taut. Silence pressed against us, broken only by soft splashes. Each stroke a drumbeat of anticipation.

Juliet’s breath brushed my ear. “The prince isn’t just a target. He’s their pride, their heir. Kidnapping him will shake their ranks.”

Timi’s calm voice cut through the night. “Leverage isn’t enough. We need a way to end this war without unnecessary bloodshed. The prince is their weak point. Once we have him, we can negotiate.”

I swallowed the weight of his words. “And the villa?”

“26 guards,” Juliet said. “Shifts, walls, entrances. But the prince believes no one dares strike at night. That’s our advantage.”

Timi’s gaze scanned black water. “Fast, precise, silent. One mistake, and the plan dies before it begins.”

The cold spray of water stung our skin, but adrenaline drowned it out. This was more than a mission. This was a test of everything we were: skill, trust, courage. The villa awaited, and with it, the first decisive strike against the Braves.

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We hauled the canoes onto the sand, dragging them into a hidden nook beneath jagged boulders. Soldiers formed a tight, silent line behind us. Snow muffled our steps as we pressed into the forest, branches snapping softly beneath our boots. Moonlight cast streaks across the path, shadows stretching long and thin.

Juliet whispered. “The villa is isolated. Guards patrol all around. One mistake, and the alarm will sound.”

Timi crouched, signaling. “Head down, move as one. Precision is everything. Strike only when the moment is perfect.”

The treeline opened. The villa perched on a plateau, torches flickering against walls. Guards moved like clockwork, silhouettes rigid. Timi gestured. We melted into shadows, ready. Every muscle coiled, every sense alert.

This was it—the culmination of training, strategy, and risk. The first decisive strike against the Braves. We were ready.

We crept along the shadows of the villa’s outer walls, the snow crunching softly beneath our boots. The night air bit through our clothing, but adrenaline burned hotter than the cold. The villa glimmered in torchlight, alive with movement—guards pacing along the walls, balconies illuminated by flickering lanterns, and the distant hum of music and laughter drifting from the backyard. That party was where the prince was, utterly unaware of the hunters in his midst.

Timi raised a hand. “East side, two guards at the gate. The rest of you,” he gestured toward the warriors, “take positions along the walls and corridors. Silence is absolute.”

The twenty warriors we’d brought melted into the darkness, blades, spears, and light crossbows ready. Their black-painted bodies and braided hair made them nearly invisible against the night. Juliet and I followed Timi closely, our vampire senses stretching toward every sound and shadow.

A lone guard appeared at the gate, outlined in the warm lantern light. In a heartbeat, Timi moved—faster than thought—flipping the man over his shoulder and pinning him silently into the snow. Juliet darted across the terrace, neutralizing the balcony guards in a blur of movement. The warriors fanned out, intercepting patrols before they could raise the alarm, every action fluid and precise.

Timi’s grin was sharp and unreadable. “Keep moving. The party is the target. The prince won’t wait for us, and neither can we.”

We wound through the villa’s corridors, shadows among shadows. When a patrol rounded a corner, the warriors struck in perfect unison—spears and daggers disarming them, leaving the guards unconscious but unharmed.

At last, the edge of the backyard opened before us. The warriors fanned out, taking up hidden positions behind trees, pillars, and along walls.

Timi crouched beside me, his gaze fixed on the courtyard. “Remember—don’t engage unless you must. Our presence alone will unnerve them.”

Juliet’s eyes glimmered. “And if they notice us… they’ll regret it.”

We slipped past the final guards on the terrace, moving like shadows over the stone. The twenty warriors blended seamlessly into the edges of the courtyard. Me, Timi, and Juliet flanked me like a predatory trio, senses attuned to the faintest sound. Music and laughter floated toward us on the cold night air, the smell of wine and roasted meat thick in the courtyard.

Timi’s voice dropped to a low murmur. “There’s a gathering at the back. Is this what we expected?”

Juliet’s brows rose. “A party?”

Timi’s jaw tightened. “Yes. The prince throws these every year around this time. That was part of the intel.”

We approached the small archway leading to the backyard, keeping low. Snow muffled our steps, black paint blending with the dark stone and shadows. When we emerged, the courtyard spread out before us—a spacious space lit with flickering candles, alive with laughter and music. Strings and drums played a light, festive rhythm as nobles danced.

And there, in the center, stood the prince.

He laughed, arms wrapped around a tall, regal woman in a flowing crimson gown. Her golden hair caught the torchlight, and her hand rested lightly on her rounded belly. She was radiant, serene—pregnant.

Juliet’s hand flew to her mouth. “No… it can’t be.”

Timi froze, jaw tight, eyes dark with disbelief. “That… that’s the queen of the Nhim,” he muttered.

My stomach twisted. Every story we had been told—the war, the Nhim, the boundaries we’d fought to protect—crashed into this single moment. The prince, utterly unguarded, laughing with his arms aro

und her. The queen… smiling, hand on her stomach, pressed close to him.

Every step we’d taken, every plan we’d made, suddenly felt like it had led straight to this impossible truth.