Chapter 26

In an instant, every shapeshifter transformed into their animal form. I stood frozen on the platform, a few meters away, watching the chaos unfold with terror tightening my chest. My gaze darted to Hadrian, who wore a wicked smile as though he’d been waiting for this moment, as though the werewolves were doing exactly what he wanted.

Malcolm, now a massive red-furred wolf, stood at the forefront, his fiery eyes locked on Hadrian. Fury radiated off him, eclipsing any shred of reason. Hadrian opened his arms wide, a taunting gesture, daring Malcolm to strike.

Malcolm’s rage reached its breaking point. With a furious snarl, he lunged at Hadrian, and the other wolves followed his lead.

"No!" I screamed, but my voice was swallowed by the snarls and growls of the furious pack.

Suddenly, Mr. Larkspur and three other vampires burst into the hall from behind. They must have been lying in wait, ready to act the moment things escalated. A few wolves turned their fury toward them, while Malcolm and the rest charged directly at Hadrian.

But Hadrian didn’t move. He stood his ground, calm and composed, waiting for the wolves to meet him at full speed.

Malcolm leaped, aiming for his throat, but Hadrian swatted him away with a single hand as if he were nothing more than an annoyance. A second wolf tried to attack, and Hadrian caught him mid-air, snapping his neck with a brutal twist. In less than a minute, three more wolves lay lifeless at his feet.

Malcolm, now maddened with fury, lunged again. This time, his claws aimed to rip Hadrian apart, but Hadrian dodged effortlessly and delivered a crushing punch to Malcolm’s jaw, lined with sharp teeth. The blow sent Malcolm sprawling across the floor, stunned and bleeding.

By the time Malcolm tried to rise, clumsy and dazed, it was too late. The rest of his pack lay dead, their blood pooling across the marble floor. Hadrian, Mr. Larkspur, and the guards had made quick, merciless work of them. The stench of death hung heavy in the air.

Hadrian stretched his neck casually, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he walked toward Malcolm, who lay trembling on the floor.

"Don’t bother getting up," Hadrian said coldly. "It’s over."

Malcolm tried to snarl, but his broken jaw reduced the sound to a pitiful rasp. His ribs were shattered, his breathing shallow. Barely able to move, he glared up at Hadrian, his eyes burning with hatred.

Hadrian crouched beside him, his expression almost bored. "Do you know why I didn’t kill your brother back then?"

Malcolm’s eyes flicked upward, barely able to focus, but the fire of his loathing remained.

"Your brother was lucky," Hadrian continued nonchalantly. "I was outside my territory, and killing him would have risked a political conflict. But this? This is different." His voice dripped with malice. "You were stupid enough to attack me in my own castle. And that is why you’ll die."

Malcolm spat blood weakly, his snarls reduced to gurgles. I curled into myself on the platform, trembling uncontrollably. A sickening dread washed over me. Was I next to face Hadrian’s wrath?

Mr. Larkspur approached Hadrian and bowed deeply. "My apologies, Master. I underestimated the situation and delayed our intervention. I should never have allowed you to dirty your hands. We’ll clean up this mess immediately and remove the stench."

"It’s fine, Gareth," Hadrian replied smoothly, brushing a speck of blood off his jacket. His gaze flicked to me, a cruel smirk curling his lips. "I actually quite enjoyed dealing with these filthy creatures."

I flinched, my stomach churning as Malcolm bled out in agonized silence. No one moved to grant him a merciful death. Hadrian rose to his feet, wiping the last of the wolves’ blood from his clothes.

"Come here, Thalassa," he commanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "They won’t bite."

I swallowed hard and descended the platform, each step heavier than the last. When I drew close, Hadrian seized my wrist and began dragging me toward the door at the far end of the hall.

"Where are you taking me?!" I cried, my voice trembling with fear.

"Shut up," he snarled, his anger palpable as he stormed into the corridor.

His grip tightened, crushing my wrist until I thought my bones might snap. He shoved me into the nearest room and followed, slamming the door shut behind him. Then he pinned me against the wall, his cold, furious glare piercing through me.

"Why are you acting like this? I would have told you everything. I just... I didn’t know how," I stammered, my voice shaking as I met his hateful stare.

"It wouldn’t have made a difference," he hissed, his voice sharp and venomous. Slowly, he pressed his claws against my neck, the tips digging into my skin.

"Please! I have nothing to do with them!" I begged, my voice breaking.

A dark chuckle escaped him. "How disloyal to the members of your own pack..."

"I’m not part of their pack!" I cried, summoning all my strength to shove him away.

To my surprise, he stepped back, as though indulging me. My knees gave out, and I collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. He gazed down at me, his smirk returning.

"Yes... stay like that. Beg," he said coldly.

"I did nothing wrong!" I sobbed, tears streaming down my face.

"You’re Cassius Marwood’s daughter," he spat. "That alone makes you guilty."

His words struck me like a blow, and I stared at him, disbelieving. Then a bitter, hysterical laugh escaped my lips, mingled with my tears.

"Are you denying it?" he asked, disdain dripping from every word.

I lowered my head, tears falling in steady drops to the floor. "I don’t remember anything before I was sent to the orphanage," I whispered. "I grew up there because my dearest father abandoned me. I was hated, abused, and bullied. But that was still better than the times he noticed me."

My voice cracked as the memories spilled out, tears flowing freely down my face.

He looked at me with a sharp click of his tongue, his expression unmoved, making it clear that my tragic story was of no concern to him. His apathy didn't deter me—I pressed on.

“At some point, my father discovered something unique about my blood. Genetically speaking, my DNA is flawless for werewolves. The only thing missing is the wolf gene. This means that if any Alpha were to have a child with me, their offspring would become the most powerful wolf in history. That’s why he wants me back—to sell me. To him, I’m not a daughter—I’m a prized possession, his most valuable slave,” I said bitterly, my lips curling into a self-mocking smile.

Hadrian stood there, silent, his piercing gaze locked on me as I poured my heart out. Finally, I lifted my head and met his eyes, searching for any sign of empathy.

“Fine,” he said at last, his voice clipped and cold. “I won’t kill you. In two days, you’ll testify in front of the Night Council. The day after that, you’ll leave this castle and Monteforte City for good.” His jaw tightened as he spat the words, then turned to leave, his hand gripping the door handle.

“Wait!” I called out, my voice trembling as I remained on my knees.

He stopped but didn’t turn, his knuckles whitening on the threshold. “What else do you want?” he growled through gritted teeth.

“Three days from now, my father will know Malcolm is dead,” I said quickly, desperation thick in my voice. “By then, there’ll be a hundred wolves combing the city for me! I won’t stand a chance—he’ll know exactly where I am!”

Hadrian tilted his head slightly, his dark chuckle reverberating through the room. “And why should that matter to me?” he asked mockingly, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips.

“Please,” I whispered, my hands clenching into fists. “I’m begging you... give me your protection.”

At that, he erupted into laughter, the sound as sharp and cutting as a blade. He crouched down in front of me, grabbing my chin with firm fingers that forced me to meet his cold, mocking eyes.

“I can’t tell if you’re brave or just painfully naive,” he sneered, his wicked grin broadening. “Why in the world would I protect you?”

Summoning every ounce of courage, I wrenched his hand away from my face and glared up at him. “Because I’m a victim in this!” I shot back, my voice breaking with frustration. “You hate werewolves—I get that—but I’m human! What could I have possibly done to deserve your hatred?”

His expression hardened instantly, his jaw tightening as his eyes turned icy. When he spoke, his voice was chillingly even.

“Even if you’re not Cassius Marwood’s precious child, his blood runs through your veins,” he said coldly, each word slicing like a dagger. “The blood of the man who murdered my mother.”