A heart of the vampire

Chapter 25

When at last the sun dipped below the horizon, he rose, shaking off the remnants of fatigue and blood from his earlier battle. He had fought against beasts more terrifying than himself in wars that felt like distant nightmares, but nothing prepared him for the image of Serena in Vlad's grasp. He though all nig

He stepped into the darkness, moving swiftly through the thick woods, pushing past tangles of branches that clawed at him as if trying to hold him back. He needed to reach the castle and confront Vlad before it was too late. With every step, he reminded himself of what was at stake. If Vlad managed to steal Amara's power, he would become invincible, a threat not just to humans and vampires but to the entire realm—including werewolves.
Lucian recalled the ancient rule: "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." He felt the truth in that adage, and it whispered through his mind as he pressed onward. Allies could be forged out of necessity, even with those he once viewed with disdain. He would have to consider every possibility, every avenue, in his pursuit of Serena and the confrontation with Vlad.

After an hour, he reached the town that Vlad's forces had ravaged the night before. Ash covered the ground, a thick layer of destruction suffocating what little life remained. The stench of smoke and charred flesh filled the air, and Lucian's heart hardened at the sight of broken homes and twisted bodies left behind by Vlad's merciless army.

But as he surveyed the wreckage, a faint sound broke through the heavy silence—a muffled sobbing. The noise drew him in, compelling him to investigate further. He found a little girl crouched over a lifeless woman amid the ashes. The woman's clothes were burnt and torn, her face peaceful in death—a tragic contrast to the chaos surrounding her.

The girl looked up as Lucian approached, her tear-streaked face wide with fear. She clutched the dead woman's arm, her small fingers trembling. "My mother..." she choked out, her voice breaking with raw grief.

Lucian knelt beside the girl, his heart heavy with the weight of her loss. "You need to go," he urged, trying to instill some sense of urgency into her shattered expression. "If you stay here, more soldiers will come. They won't spare anyone they find."

She blinked, her gaze flickering from him to her mother. "Where... where should I go?" she whispered, searching his eyes for reassurance.

"Come with me," he said, his voice firm. "I know a place where you'll be safe."

The girl hesitated, her small body trembling, but something in Lucian's tone seemed to reach her. He rose, extending a hand to her. "I can't promise you much, but they will take care of you. They... they won't let anything happen to you."
With a deep breath, she took his hand, rising unsteadily to her feet. "Will they help my mother?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Lucian's heart twisted at the question, and he shook his head. "I'm sorry, little one. There's nothing we can do for her now. But we can honor her memory by staying alive and fighting back."
Lucian moved through the forest with relentless purpose, his stride measured, each step a calculated movement toward his destination. After hours of crossing rough terrain, he look at  the girl, the small burden he carried for the last few miles .Her resilience surprised him, though he hardly softened for it; he was a weapon honed by centuries of bloodshed, a creature forged from darkness and ancient rage.

As they neared a clearing, Lucian paused, scanning the familiar ground. This was the threshold of the wolves' territory—a place steeped in old violence, where his name was cursed and his presence might as well have been a summons to arms. Setting her down at the forest's edge, he knelt beside her.

"Wait here," he ordered, his tone as cold and unyielding as the night air. "Stay silent and keep low until I return. I'll speak with them. If they agree, they'll offer you the protection you need."