The castle's grand hall was bathed in the eerie glow of enchanted chandeliers, their light flickering like captured stars. Asis stood near the arched windows, her fingers tracing the cold glass as she stared out at the moonlit mountains. The view was breathtaking—vast, untamed, and suffocatingly isolating.
Vlad Calin's presence announced itself before he spoke, a whisper of frost against her spine. "You're brooding again," he murmured, his voice velvet and mocking. He stepped beside her, close enough that the scent of bergamot and something darker—iron, perhaps—wrapped around her.
"I'm thinking," she corrected, refusing to look at him.
"About him?" Vlad's lips curled. "The Lycan king who dragged you like a trophy?"
Her jaw tightened. "You don't know anything about him."
"I know he failed you." Vlad's hand brushed her arm, his touch featherlight yet deliberate. "He let his elders question you like a criminal. Let them fear your blood instead of worshiping it." His fingers trailed higher, skimming her shoulder. "I would never."
Asis shivered, though she told herself it was a feeling of revulsion. "You killed the man I loved."
Vlad's chuckle was low, intimate. "And yet here you are, learning from me. Embracing what you are." His breath ghosted over her ear. "Tell me, Asis—do you hate me? Or do you hate how much you don't?"
She whirled to face him, fire sparking in her palms. But Vlad caught her wrists, his grip unyielding, his violet eyes gleaming with amusement. "There she is," he purred. "That fury. That fire. Harald wanted to smother it. I want to let it burn."
His lips hovered dangerously close to hers, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Imagine what we could do together. You, unshackled. I, unchallenged. We could tear the world apart and remake it in our image."
For a heartbeat, Asis hesitated. The promise in his words was intoxicating—power, freedom, revenge. But then she remembered Ayaan's laughter, Harald's growl, the way her heart had stuttered when the Alpha King looked at her like she was his only salvation.
She wrenched free. "I'm not your weapon."
Vlad's smile never faltered. He stepped back, sweeping into a mocking bow. "Not yet."
*****
The forests of the northern border reeked of vampire magic. Harald Dyre crouched in the shadows, his golden eyes scanning the treeline. Anders and his elite guard fanned out behind him, their claws unsheathed, their snarls silent.
"They've cloaked the scent of Luna Queen," Anders muttered. "But she's here. Somewhere."
Harald's claws dug into the earth. Ingolf raged inside him, a relentless storm of fury and fear. "She's ours," the wolf growled. "And I'll slaughter every creature that stands between us."
But as the hours bled into dawn, the trail remained cold. Vlad Calin was too clever, his fortress too well-hidden.
*****
Vlad's lessons grew bolder.
In the castle's obsidian training hall, he guided Asis's hands through spells, his chest pressed against her back, his voice a sinful murmur in her ear. "Focus," he coaxed as her magic lashed out, shattering a marble pillar. "Your emotions are the key. Harald made you fear your power. I want you to revel in it."
His fingers lingered on her waist, his lips brushing her temple. "You're magnificent."
Asis's breath hitched. The line between manipulation and genuine fascination blurred. Vlad was a monster, but he saw her—truly saw—in a way no one else had.
That night, he hosted a banquet in her honor. Vampire nobles draped in silk and jewels watched as Vlad led her to the high table, his hand possessive on the small of her back. "To Asis," he toasted, his gaze locked on hers. "The queen who needs no crown to rule."
The wine was sweet, the music intoxicating. And when Vlad pulled her onto the dance floor, his body moving against hers with predatory grace, Asis forgot to resist.
"You belong here," he whispered, his lips grazing her neck. "With me."
For the first time, she didn't pull away.
*****
The next morning The castle library smelled of aged parchment and candle wax, the towering bookshelves casting long shadows across the stone floor. Asis traced her fingers along the spines of ancient tomes, the leather cool beneath her touch. Vlad had given her free rein of the castle's archives, a privilege she knew was calculated—every book, every scroll, carefully curated to shape her thoughts.
She pulled a heavy volume from the shelf, its title etched in gold: The Blood Moon Prophecy. The pages crackled as she opened it, revealing an illustration of a wolf and a raven locked in battle beneath a crimson moon.
"That one's my favorite," Vlad murmured from behind her. He leaned over her shoulder, his chest pressing against her back as he pointed to the text. "When the moon bleeds, the witch's power shall awaken, and the balance between shadow and light will shatter." His breath tickled her ear. "Sound familiar?"
Asis stiffened. "You think this is about me."
"I know it is." He plucked the book from her hands and set it aside, his fingers trailing down her arm. "The Blood Moon rises in three nights. And when it does, your magic will reach its peak." His violet eyes gleamed. "With my guidance, you could wield power beyond even Harald's comprehension."
She turned to face him, her pulse quickening. "And what do you get out of this?"
Vlad's smile was slow, dangerous. "An Empress worthy of my throne."
*****
The Alpha King stood atop a cliff, the wind tearing at his hair. Below, the ruins of a vampire outpost smoldered, his warriors finishing the slaughter.
Anders approached, bloodied but grim. "No sign of the Luna Queen, Your Majesty."
Harald's roar shook the earth. He was running out of time. And worse—he feared Asis might not want to be saved.
The Next day, the Lycan war camp buzzed with tension. Harald stood over a map of Vlad's territories, his claws digging into the wooden table. "We've searched every outpost," Anders said, frustration edging his voice. "It's like the Luna Queen vanished into thin air."
Then the tent flaps parted, and Berit stepped inside, her face pale. "Your Majesty," she breathed. "I've found something."
She unrolled a scroll on the table—a faded prophecy, its edges singed. Harald's golden eyes scanned the text, his stomach twisting.
The Blood Moon calls the witch home,
Her power is the key to the throne.
But if the wolf fails to claim his mate,
The raven shall rule alone.
"Vlad isn't just hiding the Luna Queen," Berit whispered. "He's preparing her for something. And if we don't reach her before the Blood Moon…"
Harald's snarl shook the tent. "Then we attack now."
The Lycan army gathered at the foot of the mountains, their howls shaking the trees. Harald stood at the front, his golden eyes fixed on the distant silhouette of Vlad's castle.
Ingolf's voice was a growl in his mind. "She's slipping away."
Harald's claws unsheathed. "Then we tear down every stone until we find her."
And as the first rays of dawn painted the sky, the Alpha King gave the order to march.
*****