A heart of the vampire

Chapter 22

Lucian moved swiftly through the dense undergrowth, his senses attuned to every sound, every faint shift in the shadows. He had traveled these paths before, long ago, in times of relative peace. But now, every step felt like a race against time.

For hours, he had searched through the wilderness for any sign of Serena and Raoul, grappling with the growing dread that clawed at him.

He stopped, noticing a subtle scent in the air—a trace of iron, the metallic tang of blood. He scanned the trees until he spotted it: a lone figure, shadowed and slumped against the trunk of an ancient pine.

Lucian crept closer, staying downwind. The figure stirred, struggling to lift his head, and Lucian caught sight of the uniform: dark, military-precise, and unmistakably Vlad's. It was a scout, judging by the light gear, though his armor was scuffed and his breathing was labored. Blood streaked down the man's head, but Lucian could see the insignia on his chest, a dark crest that belonged to Vlad's newest soldiers.

His eyes glinted with a feral light as he held the scout against the trunk of a gnarled tree, the night air thick with a sense of impending dread. Gone was the restraint that had once tempered his power, replaced now with a wild and consuming rage that seethed beneath his skin.

"Where. Is. She?" His voice was a low, deadly whisper that cut through the silence of the forest.

The scout trembled, his pulse racing beneath Lucian's tightening grip. "Th-the castle," he stammered. "Vlad... Vlad took them to the castle."

A dark smile twisted Lucian's face, something terrible and unforgiving. He released the scout just enough for him to gasp for air, but the man's relief was short-lived as Lucian leaned in, his voice a venomous growl. "How did he find us? How did he know where we were?"

The scout hesitated, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape. Lucian's patience snapped, and he tightened his grip, the man's breath coming in shallow, fearful gasps.

"It was Raoul," the scout finally admitted, his voice shaking. "Raoul... betrayed you. He told Vlad where you were, made a pact with him. He... he had no choice—Vlad has his family."

Lucian felt something inside him twist, a darkness that swallowed any lingering shred of forgiveness or understanding. He had trusted Raoul, trusted him with everything, and the man had repaid him by leading Vlad straight to Serena.

His grip on the scout tightened, his voice dripping with cold fury. "Raoul," he murmured, almost to himself. "The coward." For a brief, icy moment, Lucian could see it all: Raoul, pleading on his knees before Vlad, bargaining away their lives for his own family.

"Vlad took her because he knows..." The scout's voice broke, fear overtaking him as he looked into Lucian's face. "He knows you'd burn the world to get her back."

Lucian's expression darkened further, the glimmer of rage in his eyes sparking into something savage. Burn the world? He was already prepared to tear it apart, to lay waste to anything that stood between him and Serena.

He let the scout go, watching with a cold satisfaction as the man stumbled and fell to his knees, fear contorting his features. "Tell Vlad he has invited a monster to his gates," Lucian said, his voice low and venomous. "And when I arrive, there will be nothing left."

The scout's face paled as Lucian turned and disappeared into the night, his movements eerily silent, as though the shadows themselves were parting to let him pass. His mind was a storm of fury and vengeance, a singular, unbreakable resolve forming within him.

The castle, the forest, the very land itself—he would leave it all in ruin. He would scorch the earth, raze every stronghold, and slaughter any who dared stand between him and Serena. Raoul would beg for death before he was finished, and Vlad... Vlad would learn the true price of his arrogance.