Chapter 521

The vampires kept coming. Obviously. Because why would anything on this hellscape mountain operate on a reasonable schedule.

They dropped from ledges above with absolutely zero regard for gravity, trajectory, or personal safety.

One launched itself from a cliff face, missed all four wolves entirely, and slammed face-first into a boulder with a wet CRACK that echoed across the slope.

Xeon: That one missed.

Fin: I saw.

Another dropped directly onto the path ahead, landed on its own ankle at the wrong angle, crumpled sideways, and rolled off the edge before it could stand up. A third stuck the landing perfectly, shrieked in triumph, and was immediately bulldozed off the mountain by Rook, who hadn’t even been looking at it.

Apparently dying was the only thing these creatures were genuinely efficient at, and even that required assistance.

Then a voice cut through the carnage.

It was commanding. Ancient. The kind of sound that made the air itself flinch. “Well, well, what do we have here?”

Rook: That one is different.

Gavriel: Gee, what gave it away? The fact it can talk?

Rook: Yes. The others are stupid. That one is not stupid.

Gavriel: Helpful assessment.

Rook: I provide intelligence. You provide the screaming. Our roles are established.

A voice that could actually do something other than shriek.

“Shift.”

One word. It dropped like a guillotine blade.

The vampire leader stood above them on a jutting outcrop, taller than the rest by a full head, frame carved lean with centuries of hunger, face angular and wrong in the way that beautiful things become wrong when they’ve been starving for too long. His eyes glowed like dying embers, smoldering orange-red, ancient and patient and deeply, profoundly unkind.

His voice struck like a spell.

Because it was one.

All four wolves jerked, a simultaneous full-body convulsion that ripped through muscle and bone like a current of electricity they couldn’t outrun. They shifted back instantly, unwilling, magic forced, the transformation violent and graceless, fur receding, bones snapping back into human architecture against every instinct screaming to stay in wolf form.

Dexmon hit his knees, human again, chest heaving, blood smeared down both arms. His jaw clenched so hard the tendons in his neck stood out like cables.

Gavriel rose with a snarl, barely upright, legs shaking beneath him, his ring glowing dangerously bright in a way that should have concerned everyone and concerned nobody because they had bigger problems.

Fin hit the ground hard, catching himself on one hand, breath tearing from his lungs as gold flashed in his eyes. Every muscle in his body rebelled against the shift, and the fury on his face said he was already planning how to kill something that could do this to him.

Xeon: PUT ME BACK. Put me back RIGHT NOW.

Fin: I can’t. He overrode the shift.

Serena’s shift took the longest. She collapsed in the center of their triangle, her body the last to release the wolf, the change dragging out of her like a blade being pulled from a wound. Her hands scraped stone. Breaths came fast and shallow. The disorientation of a forced shift hit her like a freight train wrapped in vertigo, and for three full seconds, she couldn’t remember which direction was up.

The vampire leader moved in a blur.

And vanished.

The first blade hit Dexmon before anyone saw him close the distance. Steel drove into his side with bone-crushing force, the angle deliberate, the placement ruthless. Dexmon grunted sharply, body jerking sideways, but he stayed upright through sheer refusal to give this ancient piece of shit the satisfaction.

The second strike came from behind. A cold line of fire opened across his back.

Then a third. Each blow exploiting the split-second weakness left by the forced shift, targeting joints, tendons, the exact places where human bodies failed fastest.

“NO!” Serena screamed, lunging toward him.

A vampire caught her by the arm and threw her backward like she weighed nothing. She hit the ground hard enough to see white, gasping, gravel embedding itself into her palms. Gavriel moved in front of her instantly, placing his body between her and the vampire that threw her with the calm, deliberate energy of a man who had already decided what was going to happen next and it involved considerable violence.

Dexmon swung blindly, fist connecting with empty air as the leader stepped out of reach faster than thought, faster than reflex, faster than the signal could travel from Dex’s brain to his muscles. Another blade punched into his shoulder, severing muscle with a wet sound that made Serena’s stomach lurch, forcing him to one knee at last.

Blood soaked his suit, hot and slick. His vision tunneled at the edges, pain screaming through every nerve like fire chasing gasoline through his veins.

The vampire leader circled him slowly now. Leisurely. Like a cat with a mouse who still had the audacity to breathe.

“You endure well,” he said mildly. “But wolves always do.” A thin smile split his face, showing fangs stained the color of old rust. “Right up until they don’t.”

He stepped in close. Too close. The blade lifted.

Dexmon dragged his head up, teeth bared, gold burning in his eyes despite the blood pouring down his side. Every breath cost him. Every second upright was borrowed time. He spent it all on six words.

“Touch her again,” he rasped, voice shaking but lethal, “and I’ll…”

The blade plunged.

And never landed.

Dexmon vanished. Right before the steel could make contact, his body dissolved out of existence like the universe had reached down and snatched him off the board. Gone. No flash, no warning, no goodbye. Just the space where he’d been kneeling, blood-soaked and defiant, suddenly empty.

Serena’s eyes welled before she could stop them.

“I will kill you,” she said to the vampire, grabbing an arrow.

Rook: Mate is angry.

Gavriel: Good.

Rook: Mate is VERY angry. Mate is the kind of angry that burns things. I love angry mate. Angry mate is my favorite mate.

Gavriel: All versions of mate are your favorite mate.

Rook: Yes. But angry mate has ARROWS. Angry mate is about to do something stupid.

“Serena, behind me. Now,” Gavriel said, Alpha tone bleeding through.

Fin’s head snapped to him at that moment, brows knit as Serena’s legs obeyed. Her eyes were blazing, not at the vampire, but at Gavriel now.

Rook: Mate is angry at you now.