His Love

Chapter 31

John's POV

"OPEN IT UP!" I yelled.

The witches mumbled an incantation, and the heavy stone doors creaked open. Flashlights flickered as they cautiously stepped inside, their light revealing dust-covered walls and cobwebs draped across the room.

At the center stood a single casket, chained tightly and cloaked in an ominous aura. I approached it, the witches gathering around me.

"Help me move the lid," I ordered.

Together, we heaved the heavy stone top, letting it crash to the floor.

Inside lay the body: shriveled to dust, skin tinged with green, and bound tightly in chains. I placed a hand on the shoulder of the man next to me, a grin spreading across my face.

"Finally, we've found him."

Cheers erupted from the group, echoing in the chamber. But before the man beside me could fully celebrate, I drew the knife from my pocket and slashed his throat in one clean motion.

Blood sprayed as the man staggered back, clutching his neck in a futile attempt to stop the flow. The others froze, their shock silencing them.

I grabbed the dying man by his collar and forced his face toward the body in the casket. "Drink," I commanded darkly, though he was far too gone to comply.

The witches snapped out of their daze and began encircling me, their leader stepping forward with fury in his eyes.

"You are a disgrace to our kind," the leader spat. "We agreed to wake him—not through murder. You've broken the code of our coven, and you will face our judgment."

They began chanting, their voices low and melodic as they cast their spell.

I chuckled, shaking my head as I glanced toward the ceiling. Then, I turned my gaze back to the man in the casket.

One by one, the witches fell silent as the sound of snapping necks echoed through the chamber. They dropped like flies, lifeless on the ground.

"What took you so long?" I asked, my eyes shifting to the entrance. My wife, Annabelle, stood there, brushing blood off her hands.

"I had to deal with the witches in the car," she replied, stepping inside. Her gaze shifted to the casket. "Has he woken up yet?"

I frowned. "I don't think the witches were truthful. He hasn't moved, and I've already given him the blood."

Annabelle gripped my hand firmly. "Just give it time."

"What if this doesn't work?" I whispered, my voice heavy with worry. "She's been with that monster too long. She hasn't contacted us. What if—"

"Shhh." Annabelle pressed a finger to my lips, cutting me off.

Before she could say more, a loud crash echoed from the entrance.

We both turned to see a blond, mid-height vampire standing there, his chest heaving as though he'd run a mile.

"I didn't think I'd find a meal here," he smirked.

I stepped in front of Annabelle. "I don't think you want to try that."

The vampire snarled and lunged at me, gripping my throat in a crushing hold. Annabelle acted swiftly, sending him flying into a wall with a sharp flick of her head.

The vampire groaned as he hit the ground. Annabelle's powers pinned him there, his hands clawing at his temples as she melted his mind from the inside out.

I grabbed a nearby wooden chair, snapping off one of its legs. Walking over to the writhing vampire, I gripped his hair and forced him to his knees.

He screamed as I drove the wooden stake into his heart. His body hit the floor with a sickening thud. Veins crawled up to his face as his skin paled, the life draining from him completely.

I stood, breathing heavily, and Annabelle placed a steadying hand on my shoulder.

"I want to try something," she said, her eyes fixed on the vampire's corpse. "Help me drag him over."

I hesitated but eventually grabbed the vampire by his shoulders while she took his legs. Together, we positioned him next to the casket.

Annabelle took my knife and sliced the vampire's neck. "Hold him steady," she instructed.

I tilted the vampire's head, letting his blood drip into the mouth of the man in the casket.

One drop.

Two.

The man's eyes snapped open, glowing with a fiery intensity.

With an inhuman growl, he shattered the chains binding him and grabbed the vampire's corpse, pulling it close and draining it dry.

Annabelle and I backed away slowly, hand in hand, as the man dropped the lifeless body to the ground with a dull thud.

He stood, stepping out of the casket with unnatural speed and grace. Before I could react, he was in front of me, his hand raised to strike.

His body froze mid-motion.

"I wouldn't awaken you without ensuring our safety," Annabelle said, holding up her wrist. A gleaming bracelet adorned it, pulsing faintly with magic.

⸻

Annabelle's POV

I stepped forward, locking eyes with the man. "This controls you. You won't harm anyone I don't want you to."

His lips curled into a sneer. "I am no puppet. I don't follow witches' orders."

"You do now," I said coldly. "I want you to kill your son. Klaus. He has our daughter."

His sneer turned into a wicked smile. "So the bastard who calls himself my son is still alive."

"If I do this, witch, will you let me go?" he asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

"No," John interjected.

I turned to John, my brows furrowed. "We have to do this. How else do you expect us to get her back?"

"We could try more witches," he replied gruffly.

"Fine," I said through clenched teeth. "We'll try it your way first. But if it doesn't work, we'll do it my way."

"Agreed," John said reluctantly.

When we turned back, Mikael was standing over the body of one of the witches, blood staining his lips.

"I got a little peckish," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You killed all these witches?" Mikael asked with a smirk.

"We'd do anything for our daughter," I replied. "Now let's go."

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