-The NARRATOR'S POV-
Here we go!
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The moon hung low over the Shadowed Dominion, casting a ghostly glow over the city's gothic rooftops and twisted spires. Far below, amidst the tangled alleyways and blood-lit courtyards of the Capital, Kael moved like mist—silent, swift, and unseen.
His cloak was lined with anti-scent wards. Even the youngest vampires wouldn't be able to smell him. Not tonight. Not while he hunted.
The message from Charvi—no, from the disciple of the Inner Hall—burned in his mind. She had faith that her companions were alive, scattered somewhere in the Dominion after their caravan had been ambushed near the northern ridges.
Kael had already tracked the broken trail of their bloodstained path for two nights. Pieces of shattered steel. Torn temple robes. Dragged footprints leading away from the rebel grounds. Not all of them were taken by force. Some had vanished without a trace.
He stood now before the ruins of an old observatory on the edge of the city. A forgotten shrine reclaimed by ivy and shadow.
A drop of dried blood still lingered on the stone altar.
"Still fresh enough," Kael muttered under his breath, crouching. "At least one of them made it this far."
His fingers brushed the rune etched into the rock—it flared with faint blue light.
Temple sigil. Protective enchantment. Broken.
Whoever had passed through here had tried to shield themselves.
But someone stronger had undone it.
He reached into his satchel and pulled out a small crystalline orb—enchanted by Agira before his imprisonment. It pulsed with blue light, reacting faintly to divine signatures.
The glow intensified.
"They're close."
Kael moved again, slipping deeper into the underground catacombs that sprawled beneath the city. The sewers of Chirosa were ancient, built upon ruins long before the Vaystriel bloodline took the throne. Twisting labyrinths of bone and brick. Forgotten passages used by smugglers... and traitors.
Every step forward brought colder air and the heavy stench of blood.
He stopped. Something moved up ahead. A scuffling sound. Whispered prayers. Then, a choked sob.
Kael's hand moved to his waist, drawing one of his obsidian throwing blades. He advanced silently—until the corner broke into a chamber. Torchlight flickered within.
Three figures knelt in the centre.
Tattered robes. Wounded. Starved. But unmistakably Temple.
"Stay back!" one of them shouted, holding up a cracked barrier rune.
Kael held up both hands, eyes calm. "I'm here on behalf of the disciple from the Inner Hall. I know who you are. You're safe now."
They didn't believe him—not immediately.
He stepped into the light, letting them see his face.
One of the older guards among them gasped. "The Moon-Bound Prince...?"
Kael nodded. "Yes. You're the envoy. You're the ones sent with her."
"The ambush—" the woman stammered. "We were attacked before we could reach the temple gates. They were waiting."
"Who?" Kael asked.
"We don't know," the guard said. "But they were organized. Not rebels. Not common vampires, either. Trained. They knew how to counter temple magic."
Kael frowned. "How many of you were in the caravan?"
"Seven."
"And now?"
"Three."
Kael's jaw tightened. "We'll find the rest."
He handed them each a divine healing shard—blessed stones from the Temple of Vitality.
"You need to get out of here. Take the southern drainage route. I've left markers. You'll be met by my contact at the third gatehouse. Say the words 'moonlight follows silence'. That will identify you."
They hesitated. "And what about the others?"
Kael met their gaze. "I'll bring them back."
He turned, ready to leave, when the younger acolyte caught his wrist. "Please," she said. "We had someone important to us—someone cloaked even from us. If you find her..."
Kael nodded once, firmly. "I will."
By the time he emerged again, the sky had begun to pale with pre-dawn hues. A faint mist clung to the Dominion, the edges of the capital trembling in anticipation.
Kael stood atop one of the eastern watchtowers, overlooking the winding path leading out of the rebel-torn forest. His eyes burned with resolve. He mind-linked his brother.
"Someone had orchestrated the ambush."
"Not the rebels—they had no strategy."
"This had been calculated."
"And it wasn't just about attacking temple disciples—it was about provoking the Temple of Sanctity into declaring war on Chirosa."
"But who would benefit from that?"
Kael clenched his fists.
The gears were moving faster than any of them anticipated. He had to find the rest before another war broke out. He pulled out a new rune crystal—a flare etched with his brother's soul print.
"Brother," he murmured. "Get ready. We're going to need more than silent blades and veiled truths."
While the shadows of the Temple stirred with unease, Kael rode toward the outer cliffs of Chirosa—the last location reported by the missing members of the envoy. The snow here had long since turned to blood and dust, and broken branches marked signs of conflict.
They had tracked the faint pulse of divine magic—an echo of a spell cast in haste—and Kael followed it like a tether. His senses were heightened. Every scent, every shift in the breeze, spoke volumes. Somewhere beyond the rocks, he felt it—the lingering presence of someone... someone familiar.
The wind was sharp over the ravaged hills outside the northern ridge, its cry echoing the desperation that had once filled the battlefield. Amid the crumbled ruins and snow-soaked blood, Kael's boots pressed into the hardened earth, his eyes scanning for any signs of life. Behind him, soldiers loyal to the royal family flanked the perimeter silently, moving with quiet urgency.
Kael crouched near the remnants of a broken shield. He traced a trail of faint blood, hidden expertly—someone had been smart enough to cover their tracks, but not enough to hide from a predator trained in both vampire and werewolf hunting.
He moved fast, his body a blur of speed and silence. Soon, he reached a shallow cave hidden behind a frozen waterfall. Inside, he found what he had hoped for—signs of life. He turned the corner of a crumbled stone corridor, and there she stood.
Hooded no longer. Three figures lay wounded, guarded by one lone disciple, her blade raised, though her energy was nearly spent.
"Lower your blade," Kael said calmly. "I'm here from the citadel. Your envoy is alive."
Her long white-blond hair fluttered in the wind like a banner of moonlight, and her amber eyes gleamed with an untamed ferocity. She crouched protectively over two wounded envoy members—her claws unsheathed, her fangs visible, ready to strike at the faintest sign of danger.
Kael's breath caught.
"Mate..."
The soldiers behind him faltered, stunned.
It was her. The legendary daughter of the eastern highlands of Myralis Territory.
The last of the pure-blooded werewolves born under the tri-moon eclipse. The mate fated with Kael, the Moon-Bound Prince of Chirosa.
The woman who had arrived days ago, cloaked and silent, at the borders... now revealed.
She turned her head slowly, and her tense stance softened ever so slightly when her eyes met his.
"You're late," she said, voice calm but edged with exhaustion. Kael stepped forward, careful not to startle the wounded near her. "Sorry. Are you... okay? I thought the envoys were from the Temple. I didn't think that--"
"There would be a werewolf among them?" she cut in, turning back to the wounded. "I've been trying to stay hidden since it is the Chirosa. You arrived... just in time."
Kael lowered to one knee beside her, quickly examining the two envoy members. One was unconscious, feverish with poison in his veins. The other, barely hanging on, had a shattered leg bound in makeshift wrappings.
"You protected them... all this time?"
"I had to." She pressed her palm to the chest of the unconscious envoy and whispered a soft incantation in the old Lupine tongue. A faint silver glow wrapped around the man's body.
"They would've died if I didn't act quickly. But we're running out of time. The poison is spreading."
Kael nodded, the gravity of her words settling in. "We have a healer waiting back in the Citadel. We'll move fast."
He turned to his men. "Prepare the stretchers. Now."
As the soldiers moved into action, Alan finally turned to Kael more fully, her gaze softer than before.
The girl staggered slightly, Kael held her for support and made her sit down on the other side. "You're... the Prince? The Moon-Bound?"
Kael stepped closer and examined her wounds. "Yes. I was sent by the one you call Charvi."
The girl inhaled sharply. "So she made it..."
Kael nodded. "She's under protection. But we need to move. You've been followed."
Just as he spoke, a howl echoed in the distance—feral, desperate, hungry.
Kael's expression sharpened. "Get ready to move. I'll handle the path."
Within moments, they moved out—Kael at the front, his mate supporting the injured.
The snowstorm outside had grown stronger, but Kael didn't falter. With each passing moment, the dark behind them grew heavier.
-To Be Continued-
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— P.S. CONSTRUCTIVE ADVICE WOULD BE APPRECIATED. REFRAIN FROM SPREADING HATE.-