The Capture

The Capture
Vicky

The promise of safety had lulled us into a false sense of security.
Marcelo’s plan to enter Dracula’s Castle formally, under the protection of diplomatic custom, had seemed airtight. We’d slept free and happy, our camp alive with the coven’s laughter and the crackle of a dying fire, believing we were untouchable. But dawn brought a cruel awakening. My eyes snapped open to darkness, the air thick and stale, pressing against my skin like a living thing.
I was trapped, my body confined in a narrow, stone-cold space that felt more like a coffin than a room.
The walls were smooth, unyielding, and the faint scent of damp earth and old blood clung to every breath.
Panic clawed at my chest as I realized where I was.
A tomb bed, a vampire’s resting place, designed to hold the living as easily as the dead.

“Ame, are you okay? I can feel you, I’m trapped too. We’ve been betrayed.” Marcelo’s voice echoed in my mind, a telepathic thread cutting through the suffocating silence.

“I’m fine,” I sent back, my mental voice steadier than I felt. “And the others?”

“They’re all fine, trapped like us,” he replied, his tone grim. “We’re close to each other, but our magic doesn’t work here.”

My heart sank, but a flicker of recognition steadied me. “I think I know where we are. They can’t kill us.”

“So, this must be temporary,” Marcelo said, a note of hope in his voice. “Soon my mother’s coven will get suspicious because I didn’t make it to the castle.”

“I think, in a way, we did,” I sent back, my voice tight. “We’re in tomb beds. I’ve already slept in one. Where would there be so many, except in the vampire castle?”

We were inside Dracula’s Castle, not as guests, but as prisoners.
My hands fumbled in the dark, searching for my phone, my only lifeline to the outside world. Oh, Goddess, please let them have left it with me. My fingers brushed the familiar shape in my pocket, and relief flooded me, only to curdle as I powered it on.
The screen flickered weakly, the battery icon flashing a dire warning—less than five percent. Is there even a signal down here?
I wondered, my pulse racing, typing a desperate message to Valeska: I’m trapped in a tomb, I think inside the castle. Please, Valeska, help us. We can punish the king, I know you’d like that, and he deserves it.
I hit send, my heart in my throat, praying the message would go through. But before I could check, the screen went black, the phone dying with a faint, final buzz.
“No! Shit!” I hissed, slamming my fist against the stone, the impact jarring my knuckles. What now?

“Ame, she’s one of them,” Marcelo’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “She won’t help. Maybe she betrayed you, and that’s why we’re here. Let’s think calmly about what to do.”
But I couldn’t just lie here, entombed and helpless. I should’ve called Dário instead, reached out to the pack.
And... James...
My heart lurched at the thought of him. He was out there, waiting, stubborn as ever, his cheesy song still echoing in my mind. If anyone would tear the world apart to find me, it was him.
He was there, wasn't he?

Veny! Veny! I need you, girl, please. See if you can feel Tunder. It's urgent, we're in danger here.
Damn it! Why isn't she responding?
I tried to transform, but nothing, on the contrary, I felt dizzy. I tried one last thing. Opening my communication channel with James.

Veny! Veny! I called silently, my mind reaching for my inner wolf. I need you, girl, please. See if you can feel Tunder. It’s urgent, we’re in danger here.

No response. Not even a flicker of her warmth, her wild energy. Damn it! I pressed my palms against the stone lid, my nails scraping uselessly, and tried to transform, to summon the wolf within me. But nothing came. Instead, a wave of dizziness crashed over me, my head spinning as if the tomb itself were draining my essence.
I slumped back, gasping, my pulse racing. Why isn’t she responding?
Veny was silent. She must have been locked away by whatever magic held us here.

I tried one last thing. Opening my communication channel with James.
James… James… Damn it. My voice trembled, even in my mind, a plea cast into the void.

“Ame, he must be far away,” Marcelo’s voice cut through. “Get some rest, we’re going to need strength. We’re trying to unite mentally to—”

“What the hell is this guy doing in your head?” James’s voice erupted, sharp and laced with jealousy, cutting Marcelo off like a blade.
His growl vibrated through our link, a reminder of the fire that always flared when he felt threatened.

Marcelo went silent, and I seized the moment, my heart leaping at James’s presence.
“James!” I sent, my mental voice urgent, trembling with relief and fear. “Please pay attention: we’re trapped in tombs, I think inside Nosferatu’s castle. We need help fast. We have a way to defeat them, and don’t trust anyone, James, especially Jean. Be careful, please.”

“I love you, and I’m going to get you out of there,” James replied, his voice anchored me even in this stone prison.
“Oh, love is beautiful, but be quick,” Marcelo interjected, his tone light, teasing, as if we weren’t buried alive.

“Marcelo!” I snapped, my warning sharp. James wasn’t playful when jealousy took hold; his growl deepened, a low rumble that sent a shiver through me. “Please, James, focus on what matters.”

James

Vicky was my world, the only one who mattered now.
That warlock could prattle on with his jokes, but I ignored him, my focus razor-sharp: rescue my mate, no matter the cost.
I crouched in the underbrush near Dracula’s Castle, its jagged spires clawing at the starlit sky, a fortress of stone and shadow that reeked of old blood and older magic. The night air was sharp, carrying the scent of pine and the faint, acrid tang of vampire presence. I knew I couldn’t storm this place alone, not with Nosferatu and Jean inside, their power a suffocating weight even from this distance.
I’d called in the heavy hitters—Caspian, Dário, and Edy. The Tasmanian Devils were coming in force, and this time, we’d leave only when Vicky was safe and our enemies were dust.

While waiting for reinforcements, I used the hours to restock and scout the area, my senses honed from years of training with the lycans. The castle loomed just beyond a rocky ridge, its walls impenetrable from the ground. Unlike us, the vampires moved through the air. But I’d noticed something else.
Humans, ordinary workers, bustling in and out during the day, delivering supplies or maintaining the grounds. Their presence was a crack in the castle’s defenses.
We could blend in, slip through the gates disguised as laborers, and strike when the vampires’ vigilance was dulled by daylight. At night, their supernatural senses would make infiltration a suicide mission.
I’d learned that the hard way in lycan drills, facing creatures who thrived in the dark. For now, I could only wait, my muscles coiled, my heart pounding with the need to act.

I settled into a hidden vantage point, and opened our mental link, needing to hear her, to know she was holding on.
“Are you okay?”

Her reply was faint, tinged with exhaustion. “Yes. A little sleepy, sorry.”

My chest tightened, imagining her trapped in that stone tomb, her strength fading. “Reinforcement is coming. It’s night now, we’ll go in tomorrow during the day.”

“Sorry for putting you through this again,” she said, her voice heavy with guilt.

“Hey!” I cut her off, a fierce edge to my words. “I would do it anyway. Anyone who threatens you doesn’t deserve to live. Now sleep, I’ll be here on standby if you need me, baby.”

She hesitated, then her voice came again, urgent but careful. “James, some witches who are inside the castle are from the murdered Queen’s Coven. They need to know that we’re trapped here. Marcelo is the prince of the witches, legitimate heir to the throne. There’s a blonde vampire with blue eyes, her name is Valeska. She helped me before, she’s Dimitri’s sister—”
A deep growl rumbled through me, instinctive, my hackles rising at the mention of Dimitri.
“—and she hates her father. Maybe she can help, I don’t know…”

“Just don’t talk about him,” I snapped, my jealousy flaring, hot and irrational. “I’m going to kill him, Vicky.”

“James, he’s dead,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “His own father killed him.”

A grim satisfaction settled over me, though it didn’t erase the sting of hearing his name. “I won’t deny that I’m happy about this,” I admitted. “Now sleep.”

“James, I can’t connect with Veny,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “Is she okay?”

“I’ll ask Tunder to try to find out about her,” I promised, already reaching for my packmate’s bond, hoping Tunder could sense something I couldn’t.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice fading as exhaustion pulled her under.
…

Marcelo

I knew that she, despite also having a connection with me, didn't see me as a companion. She was one of my soulmates, I had many, I didn't need her physical love, but I would like to have her as a sister, an ally. She loved the wolf and he loved her. And if she was happy, I was. But if he made her suffer, I would know and I would take her away to my kingdom, whether she wanted it or not.
My way of loving was free and it was for everyone. But, my hatred was also very concentrated and you wouldn't want to have me as an enemy. At the moment, my focus was on my mother's true killer: Jean. He was going to suffer a lot. And I was very close to achieving that.
We only failed for one night, we were euphoric with the proximity of victory and we let our guard down. I suspected Valeska, the vampire Vicky had trusted. She’d likely sold us out, whispering our location to Nosferatu or Jean. Her name was now etched on my list, second only to Jean’s, marked for a slow, deliberate end.
We were supposed to be trapped inside a magic circle that didn't allow our powers to be used, but it would soon weaken.
I reached out to Vicky again.
“Ame, hold on. This circle won’t hold us forever. Jean thinks he’s won, but he’s underestimated us.”