Isla took a deep breath, his hands trembling. His eyes burned with hatred. Without thinking twice, he swung his claws at Vlad.
Vlad was caught off guard. He dodged quickly, but Isla’s claws still tore across his chest. Black blood oozed from the scratches.
Vlad chuckled as he watched Isla dash away. But there was no way he would let the wolf escape.
For half an hour, he toyed with Isla’s body, dragging him, throwing him, slamming him again and again. The young wolf was soon overwhelmed and exhausted.
Isla was covered in blood and wounds. His eyes were half-shut, barely able to open. He looked like a dying pup lying helplessly on the ground.
Vlad inhaled deeply, his excitement rising. But he froze when Isla suddenly convulsed and vomited fresh blood.
If the young wolf died here, it would cause chaos.
With regret, Vlad stopped. His hands still itched to play more, but he forced himself to leave Isla where he was. He had something more important to do—he had to bring Kai back.
Vlad was very familiar with the Black Mask group. The notorious Montery was a wolf whose name alone made Vlad’s chest tremble. He hadn’t expected Montery to scatter so many wolves in different places. Vlad had been gone for more than twenty-five years, cut off from the outside world, and he had missed the changes.
Now, after decades, Montery’s caravan had grown stronger, busier, and far more dangerous.
Following the faint trail of Kai’s scent, Vlad knew exactly where the slave had been taken. Still, he needed to confirm it with his own senses.
Along the way, he thought back to Isla. Something about the young wolf was strange. Normally, he could smell wolves instantly, but Isla’s scent was weak, almost fading. Was he a hybrid? His strength was poor, yet his speed was extraordinary, unlike the others Vlad had fought.
The smell of wolves grew stronger ahead, mixed with the sharp trace of Kai’s blood.
In the empty field behind the playground, several tents stood scattered. Vlad scanned the area carefully.
Two men stood guard in front of a larger tent.
Moments later, Jirkan emerged, his long black clothes sweeping across the dirt. He stiffened as soon as he sensed the vampire. His eyes widened when he spotted Vlad standing silently in the shadows.
"I didn’t expect to see an uninvited guest here," Jirkan said, handing his smoking pipe to one of the men outside the tent.
The two guards looked startled. They hadn’t realized Vlad was there. They shifted, ready to move, but Jirkan raised his hand, signaling them to stay still.
"He’s my business," Jirkan said calmly, walking forward.
"Little dog, you’ve grown bigger," Vlad said, not moving from his spot.
Jirkan grinned. "I didn’t expect a vampire like you to survive this long."
Then he folded his arms. "If Lord Montery were here, he would be pleased to see you again, Lord Vampire."
Vlad smirked. "If he were here, he wouldn’t hesitate to give me anything I wanted, little dog." The most update n0vels are published on novel·fıre·net
Jirkan’s grin faltered. The insult cut deep. Werewolves despised being called dogs—it was one of the greatest insults. But Jirkan kept his composure, though anger simmered under his calm face.
"What brings an old vampire like you here?" Jirkan asked.
"I want that human slave," Vlad replied coldly. "You can hand him over, or I’ll make a mess you won’t be able to clean. Your master won’t like it. You know what I can do."
Jirkan stayed silent, studying Vlad. He knew the vampire had built strong ties with the nobles. Among humans, Vlad had a reputation for protection and power. But Jirkan hadn’t expected him to care about a mere slave.
Was this slave really that important?
On the other hand, the slave was also an opportunity. Through him, Montery could gain influence in the palace, one of the ways to control trade in Valigria.
"I know you have plans for the slave," Vlad continued, his tone sharp. "But if you get in my way, you’ll lose everything. I’ll make sure you leave Valigria with nothing but destruction."
"You know you can’t beat me," Vlad added, his eyes gleaming.
Jirkan understood. That was exactly why he was still standing here instead of attacking. If Vlad had come this far, he had no intention of walking away easily.
After a long pause, Jirkan finally spoke. "What if we negotiate? I need that slave. I’ll give him to you, but only if you’re willing to bring Lord Montery to the Crown Prince."
Vlad laughed coldly. "You’re in no position to negotiate, little dog. I gain nothing from dealing with you. So here are your options—hand over the slave willingly, or I’ll take him by force."
Jirkan clenched his teeth. He knew that if he fought Vlad, he would suffer. If Vlad spared him, Montery might kill him later. Their relationship was already strained, and Jirkan had no desire to be the scapegoat.
But if he gave Kai away, he would lose his chance at the palace.
At last, with a heavy heart, Jirkan ordered one of his men to bring Kai from the next tent.
Vlad stayed still, but his eyes sharpened as he watched. He knew exactly why they had taken Kai—probably to bargain with Sylas. A low chuckle escaped him. He hadn’t expected Montery to stoop to such methods, but it didn’t surprise him. Montery would do anything to get what he wanted.
The man dragged Kai forward, his clothes torn, his body covered in cuts. The smell of his blood filled Vlad’s nose, rich and tempting.
Damn it, Vlad cursed silently.
With reluctance, Jirkan pushed Kai toward Vlad. He already regretted it, but he had no other choice.
Kai stumbled and collapsed in front of Vlad. He looked up, eyes wide with fear. He didn’t know whether to feel relieved or terrified. In the end, he lowered his head and stayed still, his body trembling.
Vlad looked back at Jirkan. "Tell Montery to come if he needs my help. But he’d better bring something worth my time," Vlad said with a sly grin.
He pulled Kai up by the arm, staring into his eyes with such intensity that the slave flinched. Then, without another word, Vlad hoisted Kai onto his shoulder and vanished into the night.