With a rapid descent, Morgoth swooped down, landing in front of the guest house. Her powerful wings stirred the dust around us, sending small debris scattering across the porch. Outside, Derrick stood leaning against the front door, watching as Vantos' beast fluttered her wings and released a deafening screech. The force of it rattled the wooden beams of the porch, causing Derrick to flinch.

  He stepped forward but froze mid-stride when Morgoth's piercing eyes glanced at him. Her body coiled, as if assessing whether he was prey or something more useful.

  "Please, tell your pet I pose no harm," Derrick said, raising his hands slightly. "It's looking at me like I'm on tonight's menu."

  "Worry not," Vantos said. "She already ate. The only reason she's sizing you up like that is because she's protecting me. Or perhaps..." He glanced at me with an amused expression as we dismounted. "She's watching over her new friend, the young master."

  I stepped onto the porch, inhaling sharply as the unmistakable musk of werewolves hit me—thick, earthy, and lingering in the air like a warning. "Where are the other two? Because it feels like we're being surrounded by werewolves... again."

  "Gerald is loading an old wagon with the corpses in the red barn," Derrick said. "Antolio is scouting the surrounding area, making sure we're not ambushed again."

  "Thank you, Derrick," I said. "I'll leave security in your hands. I'm not sure how long it will take to heal—"

  Suddenly, a movement in the shadows snapped my attention away.

  Three figures emerged from the darkness; their hands raised in a gesture of surrender. The moment I noticed them, something deep inside me stirred—a surge of unrelenting fury. My blood burned as my muscles tensed and expanded. My hair grew longer like a lion's mane, as the cursed marks of the demon wolf slithered across my skin, glowing faintly beneath the moonlight.

  Morgoth reacted instantly. With a piercing screech, she fluttered her wings, kicking up dust and debris in a powerful display of power. Her stance was rigid, defensive, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

  Then, to my surprise, the three men fell to their knees before me.

  "We mean no harm, young master," one of them said. "We seek the protection of the Alpha."

  The other two lowered their heads in unison. "We have come to renew our vows of loyalty to the Reinhart werewolf clan."

  Their voices rang together like an oath, unwavering and resolute. "We will serve with our lives, for the survival of the clan."

  I glanced around, noticing the musty scent of werewolves grew stronger, thick in the air like damp earth after a storm. Shadows shifted around us, figures barely visible in the dim moonlight, watching in silence. Stepping closer, I glanced at their ragged forms. Malnourishment clung to them like a second skin—sunken cheeks, hollowed eyes, ribs pressing against their flesh. But it was their scars that told the real story. Deep, jagged wounds marred their bodies, some so old they had become part of their flesh, while others still wept fresh blood, torn open over barely healed tissue. It was clear—these wounds had not been given the time to mend, as if their suffering had been unrelenting, one battle blending into the next without respite.

  "Your scars... I need to know who you've been fighting and why."

  One of the kneeling men lifted his gaze but did not rise. "We haven't fought any other clans, young master if that's what you're asking. Our battles were among ourselves."

  "You fought your own?"

  "We had no choice. Our former alpha forced us to. His madness knew no bounds, and he turned our pack against itself. Those who refused to obey were punished. Many of us fled... That's why we humbly ask you to take us in."

  The others nodded, as their bodies tensed with unspoken desperation. They had been broken, their loyalty tested through torment, yet they were here, kneeling before me, seeking a new path.

  Vantos stepped forward, retrieving a small leather bag from his robe. With a flick of his wrist, he loosened the string and pulled out three glass vials, each filled with an iridescent liquid. He handed one to each of the kneeling men. "This will help you heal," Vantos said. "These potions tend to supercharge werewolves' ability to heal. You'll feel like new, in no time."

  Each man drank the potion Vantos gave them, and immediately, their wounds began to heal. The man in the center raised his head, his gaze lingered on the marks of the demon wolf covering my skin. There was something in his eyes—curiosity, maybe reverence, or perhaps fear.

  "Rise," I asked. The man in the center obeyed, standing with quiet respect. "Who is the Alpha of your pack?"

  "Dylan, my lord."

  "Dylan... Is he the one responsible for the attacks in the northern pass?"

  The man lowered his eyes briefly before nodding. "We were, under his orders. But he doesn't have many werewolves left under his command to carry out the raids. Most have abandoned him. Fear has spread through the packs—everyone knows... the war of the clans is inevitable, now that you are here."

  The truth was out—everyone knew I had been brought to Adams to ignite the war of the clans. There was no denying it now.

  "You're welcome to stay," I said. "But first, you must complete a task for me."

  The man in the center straightened, looking directly at my eyes. "I'll do everything in my power to carry out your wish, my lord. What do you require?"

  "You said there are many like you—outcasts, werewolves abandoned or rejected by Dylan or Curtis. Find them. Spread the word. Tell them they are welcome here, so long as they abide by the rules of the clan."

  He bowed his head slightly in understanding. "It will be done, my lord."

  "What's your name?"

  "It's Alphonse," he said, then gestured to the two men beside him. "This is Rudy, and this is Alec."

  I glanced over my shoulder, nodding at Derrick. He stood beside me, gazing at the three men. "Do you know any of these men?"

  Derrick shook his head. "No, young master. They must be newly turned. That being said... taking these men under your wing will undoubtedly provoke Dylan's anger."

  "We won't have to wait long to know how he will respond," I said. "Tomorrow morning, we'll accompany Gerald and deliver the corpses to Dylan. That will be our moment to settle this. If Dylan insists on adhering to the old werewolf code, then he leaves me no choice—I will challenge him for the territory. For now, find Gerald and Antolio. Instruct them to accompany these men and see that they're settled."

  I sensed movement in the shadows beyond the estate, deep within the surrounding forest. The scent of more werewolves drifted on the wind—many more surrounded the estate. They watched from a distance, their presence looming like a silent storm on the horizon. An instinctual force surged through me, raw and primal. Without hesitation, I lifted my head and let loose a powerful, bone-shaking howl. The sound tore through the night, echoing across the estate, reaching every hidden pair of eyes watching from the darkness.

  "Before you send these men off, make sure they're fed and clothed. I'm certain the werewolves watching from the shadows will make their approach soon. If they show no signs of hostility, let them come—but keep a close watch on the guest house. I don't want to deal with another raid while we're tending to Annie."

  "It will be done," Derrick said.

  "Morgoth will serve as a guardian as well, young master," Vantos said. "Her true form alone will be enough to keep intruders at bay."

  I nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, Vantos. Now, shall we see Annie?"

  "Indeed."

  As the immediate danger faded, I felt my Demon Wolf form begin to withdraw. The burning energy that had coursed through me simmered down, no longer surging like wildfire through my veins. My muscles loosened, the cursed marks of the Demon Wolf slithered back beneath my skin, and my claws retracted with a slow, instinctual ease. My breath steadied, each exhale grounding me further into my human state.

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  But despite the calm settling over the moment, a persistent unease gnawed at the edges of my awareness.

  The eyes.

  They were still there, hidden in the darkness, watching.

  Not approaching. Not retreating.

  Simply waiting.

  And that bothered me more than anything else.

  As I turned around and reached for the doorknob, Lydia suddenly pulled the door open, allowing us inside. But something about her demeanor shifted in an instant—the tension in her shoulders, the sharp inhale, the way her fingers curled slightly at her sides. Anger flared in her eyes, raw and immediate.

  She kept her distance, her gaze flickering between me and Vantos.

  "Welcome back, signore," she said, though her voice carried no warmth. Her tone was clipped, her posture rigid. Placing her hands firmly on her hips, she leveled a hostile glare at Vantos.

  "Is there a reason why this man is in my house?"

  "Lydia, this is Vantos, a friend. He's here to help Annie recuperate."

  Her body stiffened, and without hesitation, she stepped in front of the bedroom door, shielding it with her body. "I will not let him touch my daughter!" she yelled, as her eyes burned with defiance. "He will have to kill me first."

  I faltered for a moment, thrown by the intensity of her reaction. I had clearly missed something—something important that explained why she viewed Vantos as a threat.

  Vantos, however, remained composed. He took a step forward, extending his hand toward her in a gesture of peace. "Please, I beg you, let me help your daughter. Then, you can do whatever you want with me. I swear on my life—I won't resist."

  "Vantos, wait!"

  "There's no need for concern, young master. I understand why your servant is behaving this way. There will be a time for an explanation, but I'm afraid that time must wait. We need to reach your Luna wolf first—before it's too late."

  Lydia's breath hitched, and for the first time, her resolve wavered. A stream of silent tears spilled down her cheeks as she slowly stepped away from the door. Her voice broke as she whispered, "Please, don't let him kill my baby, signore... please."

  "You have my word—nothing will happen to Annie."

  We entered Annie's room, noticing her skin had taken on a grey hue. Vantos approached, touching her hand, then backing out immediately. "She's in critical condition. Her illness is not common, I have only read about it in the old books. The Demon Wolf curse is consuming her. Soon her life force will succumb to the power of the beast turning her into a rabid werewolf, for the rest of her existence."

  Vantos straightened the bed, making space beside Annie. "I need you to lay down next to her."

  I followed his directions, carefully lying beside her. Her breathing was labored, each inhale strained as if the curse inside her made even the simplest act of drawing breath a battle.

  "This ritual is simple in design, yet extremely dangerous for both of you," Vantos said. "Take her hand and press your wrists together as closely as possible."

  Vantos pulled up his sleeve, extending his palm, and revealing a glowing glyph etched into his flesh. The markings pulsed with an eerie luminescence, casting a faint glow over us. "I will channel a strong concentration of dark energy into my index finger and trace a sigil between both your wrists. This sigil will serve as a conduit, temporarily merging your flesh with hers. Your body will purify her blood, once it begins to flow inside you."

  "Once the sigil is complete, her survival will depend entirely on your physiology," he said. "It will be up to you to regulate the curse inside her blood, to stabilize her system."

  "So... like a blood transfusion?"

  "Essentially, yes. The results should be noticeable immediately, once your veins and hers become intertwined. But the real challenge isn't the process itself—it's how long you can endure the pain of having her blood flowing through your veins. Not to mention the agony of having the sigil carved into your flesh."

  "Let's skip the warnings for another day and get this over with."

  Vantos nodded, his expression unreadable as the glow in his hand intensified. He pressed his palm to Annie's skin, and the moment his fingers made contact, symbols ignited across her flesh, burning into her with searing precision. A faint whimper escaped her lips, her body twitching under the effect.

  Then, he turned to me.

  I barely had time to brace myself before his glowing finger passed over my wrist, burning the same intricate symbols into my skin. The pain was immediate—blinding, excruciating. My jaw clenched, muscles locking as a sharp hiss escaped through my teeth. Every nerve in my arm screamed as if molten iron had been poured directly into my skin.

  But I didn't look away.

  Instead, I forced my gaze onto Annie's face, focusing on the rise and fall of her breath, grounding myself in the purpose of this suffering. The unbearable agony of the glyph searing into my flesh was nothing compared to what she had endured.

  "The sigil has been created," Vantos said. "Now, I need to activate it. Are you ready for more pain?"

  "Please, proceed."

  Vantos closed his eyes, whispering an incantation in a language I didn't recognize. The markings on our wrists flared to life, glowing with an eerie, pulsating energy. Slowly, our hands began to merge—the flesh fusing as if we had been born as one.

  Then, the real pain began.

  A surge of blistering heat flooded my veins as Annie's blood forcefully intertwined with mine. It was unlike anything I had ever felt—a raw, scorching presence spreading through my body, burning from the inside out. My vision blurred as my breath came in ragged gasps.

  The beast within me stirred violently, sensing the foreign intrusion. It roared in protest, its presence swelling beneath my skin, threatening to rip free and initiate a transformation.

  I gritted my teeth, refusing to lose control. My claws extended instinctively, digging deep into the wooden bed frame as I fought against the wild surge of power. The wood splintered beneath my grip, but I held on, enduring the unbearable inferno that was Annie's blood inside me.

  "Hold on, young master. The process is almost over."

  I clenched my jaw, focusing on the sensation coursing through my body. The searing heat that had once burned through my veins was beginning to fade, the torment gradually receding the longer we remained fused. My muscles, once locked in agony, started to loosen, though exhaustion crept in to take its place.

  Still, I never took my eyes off Annie's face.

  Regret weighed heavy on my chest—regret for the choices I had made, for the danger I had unknowingly dragged her into. I had thought I could keep her safe, that my strength alone would be enough to protect her. But now, seeing her like this, helpless and on the verge of death, I questioned everything.

  Then, after what felt like an eternity, her skin began to change.

  The sickly pallor faded, replaced by the familiar warmth of her natural tone. Her breathing, once shallow and erratic, steadied into a calm, even rhythm.

  It was working. The sigil pulsed one last time before its glow dimmed, our hands detaching from each other, signaling the end of the ritual. My body trembled, my insides screaming in protest after enduring such torment. But the pain no longer mattered. The exhaustion clawing at me was insignificant compared to what we had just accomplished. Annie was safe— and that was all I cared about.

  "She will survive, young master," Vantos said. "But I strongly recommend you get some rest. A massive amount of dark energy is now coursing between the two of you. Your Demon Wolf will consume your share, of that, I have no doubt. What remains uncertain is how she will react... or what effects she will experience once she wakes."

  I exhaled sharply, wincing as another wave of pain rippled through me, tearing through my insides like fire. The merging had left its mark—I could feel her blood still burning within me, still adjusting, still binding.

  "Thank you, Vantos," I said through clenched teeth. "She looks... much better."

  Vantos nodded but made no move to leave.

  I forced myself to sit up slightly, though the motion sent another sharp pang through my body. I turned my gaze toward him, leveling him with a look that made it clear I wasn't finished. "Before you go, I need to know why Lydia reacted the way she did towards you."

  Vantos remained silent for a moment. Then, with a slow exhale, he gazed at me. "Ah," he murmured. "I was wondering when you'd ask."

  "I hope it's nothing I should worry about," I said, though I already knew the answer.

  Vantos let out a slow breath. "I'm afraid it's not that simple. It all happened ten years ago, during a failed summoning. Desmond D'Amano—Lydia's husband. He died by my hand."

  A heavy silence settled between us.

  Vantos lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, his gaze distant, as if reliving the memory. "It wasn't supposed to happen. One of my apprentices lost control of an unauthorized summoning. His target was extremely powerful for the level of his dark magic—a demon from the Tartarus realm, Igniel. At that time, Desmond was an apprentice too, and that night, he made a choice. He sacrificed himself to save everyone... including me."

  His fingers drummed idly against his knee before he continued. "There's always one apprentice who thinks they can surpass their master—someone who craves power beyond their reach. That was Gordon. He was a troubled child, and the reason I quit teaching the dark arts. He believed that if he could tame a demon, he could prove himself my equal. That arrogance cost us all dearly. Igniel was unleashed in my domain, bringing chaos and destruction beyond anything you can imagine."

  Vantos shook his head as if trying to push the memory away. "Normally, when the Ethran crystal is properly infused with life force, a summoned demon won't remain in the domain for long. But Gordon... he was desperate to prove himself. He poured more energy into the crystal than he should have, destabilizing it. Igniel was no longer a fleeting presence—he was anchored. There was only one way to contain him. He had to be bound to a vessel and forced into submission, and the only warlock capable of accomplishing such a feat was me. Desmond volunteered to be the vessel—a containment for Igniel—while I infused the Ethran crystal and performed the shackling incantation. It was a desperate move, but there was no other way."

  His hands clenched into fists, reliving the memory. "The dark energy radiating from Igniel was overwhelming, far too much for Desmond to contain. It consumed him from the inside, his body breaking down as the demon fought against the binding. The process took longer than I had anticipated. Too long. By the time I succeeded in forcing Igniel into submission, Desmond's body was already beyond saving. Even the strongest healing potion wouldn't have been enough. The dark energy had wrapped around him completely, devouring him piece by piece. I watched helplessly as his body withered, his soul flickering like a dying ember."

  He went silent for a moment, then stood up from the bed. "I ran to him. I held him in my arms... and watched his life fade away. Just imagine, how she felt, the moment I brought the corpse of her husband to her door. She never gave me the chance to explain what really happened. It was a regretful incident, one that forced me to shut down my teachings and seclude myself to my personal domain, away from contact."

  "I believe if you gather the courage to tell her what you just told me, she will understand," I said.

  The door swung open and Lydia walked into the room. "There's no need to explain what happened again, I heard everything," She said. "I was wrong about you, Mr. Orien. I let my emotions carry my judgment, without giving you the chance to explain what happened."

  "Desmond was a courageous man," Vantos said. "If it wasn't for him, many more would've lost their lives in that incident. If there's anything I could do to repay his sacrifice would be to make sure his family is safe. That's why, I'm going to extend this invitation to you and your loved ones. When the first trumpet blares across town, I want you and your family to stay inside my personal domain, safe from the carnage that will happen."