home

search

Chapter 7

  Outside the inn, Stefan stood by the wagon, his muscles tensed as he lifted another heavy wooden box onto the cart. His jaw was set, his expression sour, and an annoyed furrow creased his brow.

  Across from him, leaning casually with her arms crossed, Angeline wore a smug, victorious smile, basking in her undeniable triumph.

  Stefan hated that smile.

  The boxes weren’t even for his journey—they were for Alex’s merchant supplies—but he had no choice but to help load them. He already knew that, for his own trip, he’d need to pack only the essentials. No distractions. No unnecessary burdens... maybe Vul.

  And yet, as he shoved the last box into place, Angeline’s teasing voice cut through the air like a dagger to his pride.

  “This will be such a fun father and daughter bonding trip,” she mused playfully.

  Stefan shot her a sharp glare, his annoyance deepening. “I will never have a monster for a daughter. Not even for a million gold.”

  Angeline just rolled her eyes, grinning. “Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

  At the same time, the inn’s door creaked open, and Vul stepped out.

  Her long black hair, now freshly washed. A simple but elegant dark dress draped over her figure, and she looked…well, presentable. More so than the disheveled, half-asleep mess from earlier.

  As Vul approached the wagon, ready to climb aboard, Angeline suddenly stepped in front of her, stopping her with a playful grin.

  “Here,” she said, dramatically pulling out a small stack of books and handing them to Vul. Then, lowering her voice just enough to be considered a whisper—while still ensuring Stefan could hear every word—she leaned in and said,

  “Stefan can be so boring, so you’ll need these. Trust me, these books are way more entertaining than him.”

  Vul blinked, staring down at the books in her hands, her red eyes scanning the covers with silent curiosity.

  Stefan, unimpressed, scoffed. “Funny. The women I’ve slept with said the exact opposite.”

  Angeline’s smug expression immediately twisted into disgust. “UGH, Stefan!” she gagged, taking a step away from him like he was contaminated.

  Meanwhile, Vul…simply stood there. Quiet. Observing.

  Casually flipping open one of the books, she tilted her head and mumbled, “...What is entertaining about this?”

  Stefan smirked. Angeline groaned.

  Just then, Alex strolled toward them, flipping open his pocket watch and eyeing the time before snapping it shut.

  “We’re all set,” he announced casually.

  Stefan gave a small nod, then turned to Angeline and gestured for her to come closer. As she stepped up, he lowered his voice just slightly.

  “I left the gold from my quests with you,” he told her. “Use it however you need.”

  Angeline blinked at him. “And what about you and Vul?”

  “I took a quest on the way out,” Stefan said with a shrug. “I’ll earn more.”

  Angeline let out a slow breath, her expression unreadable for a moment before she nodded. She wasn’t going to argue—not now, at least.

  With that, Stefan turned on his heel and climbed into the wagon, moving with effortless ease as he settled in next to Alex.

  Vul, watching him, followed suit… or, at least, she tried to.

  The wagon was higher than she expected, and as she placed her foot on the edge, attempting to pull herself up, she found herself struggling. She tried again, gripping the wooden frame tightly, but the motion felt awkward, unbalanced.

  Stefan, already seated, let out a sharp sigh through his nose. Clearly irritated. Without a word, he stood back up, reached over, and—rather unceremoniously—grabbed Vul by the arm and pulled her up into the wagon.

  Vul barely reacted, only adjusting herself once she was in place. Stefan, on the other hand, muttered something under his breath before sitting back down, arms crossed.

  As Stefan settled into his seat, he gave Alex a firm nod.

  "Just drop us off at the forest," he instructed.

  Alex, already adjusting the reins, hummed in acknowledgment. With a flick of his wrist, the wagon jolted forward, the wheels creaking slightly against the dirt road.

  Angeline, still standing outside the inn, cupped her hands around her mouth and called out, "Goodbye, Vul! Stay safe!" She waved enthusiastically, her smile bright despite the bittersweet farewell.

  Vul, sitting stiffly in the wagon, turned her gaze toward Angeline. For a moment, she simply observed. Then, as if processing what was expected of her, she lifted her own hand and began to mimic the motion—raising and lowering it in a near-identical wave.

  "Goodbye, Angie! Stay safe!" she echoed, her voice matching Angeline’s tone almost perfectly.

  Angeline let out a small laugh, shaking her head fondly. Stefan just sighed and looked away.

  The wagon continued onward, and soon, the village faded behind them.

  Time passed swiftly, and by the time the wagon came to a stop, they had arrived at the forest's entrance. Towering trees loomed ahead, their thick canopies casting a cool shade over the path leading inside.

  Stefan, without hesitation, hopped off the wagon in one smooth, effortless motion. Vul, watching him closely, attempted to do the same. However, her landing wasn’t quite as flawless—her foot caught slightly, and she nearly stumbled forward. She quickly straightened, acting as if nothing had happened.

  Alex, still holding the reins, gave them both an assessing look. “So, this is where we part ways.”

  Stefan gave a short nod, then glanced up at him. “Take care of Angeline and Isaac for me.”

  Alex smirked, rolling his eyes. “What, you think I wouldn’t?”

  “Just making sure,” Stefan muttered.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Alex let out a light chuckle before tipping his hat. “Yeah, yeah. You two try not to die, alright?”

  “No promises,” Stefan replied dryly.

  With that, Alex snapped the reins, and the horse neighed, pulling the wagon forward once more. Vul and Stefan stood in silence as they watched Alex disappear down the road, leaving them alone at the forest's edge.

  As they stood at the edge of the forest, silence stretched between them. Awkward. Lingering. ALMOST.

  A soft hum broke through—faint but deliberate.

  Vul, arms swinging slightly, mimicked the sound Alex had made earlier in the wagon. It was an odd, absentminded noise he had repeated under his breath, and for some reason, it tickled Vul’s ears in a way she found pleasant. Naturally, she wanted to repeat it.

  Stefan gave her a strange look but decided to ignore it. Instead, he cleared his throat and got to the point.

  "Angeline told me you can summon a dragon," he said, watching her closely.

  Vul stopped humming and met his gaze. “Yes.”

  Stefan crossed his arms. "Can you do it again?"

  “Yes.” The same flat, monotone response—except for a slight, almost imperceptible gleam of excitement in her eyes.

  This was her moment. The moment to impress Stefan.

  The problem was... she had no idea how she did it before.

  Vul closed her eyes, focusing. She had to think. How did it happen? What triggered it? The image of flames, the feeling of heat on her back—she grasped at those pieces, trying to piece together the answer.

  Nothing.

  She tried again. And again. And again.

  Still nothing.

  Frustration flickered through her usually unreadable face, and she stomped the ground in growing irritation. Her fists clenched, brows furrowing in concentration—then suddenly, it happened.

  A ripple of warmth spread from her back, and from that very spot, a streak of black fire spiraled outward. It twisted and turned, taking form in the air. The dragon had emerged once again, wings unfurling as it let out a small, airy growl.

  But something was wrong.

  It was tiny.

  The creature hovered around her, its body no larger than a baby dragon’s. Vul stared at it, tilting her head. She was almost certain it had been bigger before. Wasn’t it?

  Meanwhile, Stefan was dumbfounded.

  This... couldn't be the dragon that had saved the tavern. Right?

  He narrowed his eyes at the tiny, floating creature, his lips parting slightly in disbelief. For a moment, disappointment almost crept in. He had expected something monstrous. Something terrifying.

  Instead... he got this.

  The small dragon flapped its wings once before settling on Vul’s left shoulder, curling its tail around the back of her neck like a warm scarf. Vul blinked, her lips parting as if she were about to say something—explain, perhaps—but nothing came out. She struggled, fumbling for words that refused to come.

  Stefan, however, had seen enough.

  He dragged a hand down his face with an exasperated sigh before pinching the bridge of his nose. This was a waste of time.

  Without another word, he stepped past her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder—not unkindly, but with enough force to make it clear—before gently pushing her aside.

  "Stay here," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Don't follow me."

  And with that, he disappeared into the forest.

  As he walked, he reached into his pocket, pulling out the slightly crumpled quest paper. Unfolding it, he scanned the details once more.

  Target: A nymph.

  Description: Lures men with an enchanting flute, then eats their hearts.

  Stefan rolled his eyes. Seriously? People were still falling for this old trick?

  Humans never learn, do they?

  He scoffed under his breath, shaking his head as he pressed onward. According to the information, the nymph lived near the entrance of the forest, where fresh prey was easiest to come by. That made things simple—he wouldn’t have to go too far to find her.

  Then, just as expected, he heard it.

  A faint melody, soft and sweet, weaved through the trees like a whispered lullaby.

  The hunt had begun.

  Meanwhile, as Stefan vanished into the dense forest, Vul remained standing at the edge, her gaze lingering on the spot where he disappeared.

  A soft rustling sound made her glance to her shoulder—her tiny dragon still perched there.

  Curious, Vul absentmindedly lifted her free arm.

  The dragon moved.

  It didn’t just shift or adjust itself—it actually followed the direction of her arm, tilting its head as if mimicking her motion.

  Vul’s eyes narrowed. Strange.

  She tested it again, making a subtle flick of her wrist.

  The dragon instantly darted to that direction, wings flaring before it quickly returned to her side.

  A silent stare-down began.

  Vul’s ruby eyes locked onto the dragon’s glowing red ones. The creature blinked, its tiny claws gripping her shoulder slightly tighter.

  Was it… connected to her?

  Psychically?

  There was only one way to find out.

  And with that thought, her gaze slowly drifted toward the forest.

  Stefan could now hear the flute clearly, the melody weaving through the trees like a silver thread. She was close. He had to admit, the creature had a skillful hand—each note was played with such precision and allure that any ordinary man would be stumbling toward her without a second thought. But Stefan was no ordinary man. He had hunted sirens before, and tricks like these didn’t work on him.

  He moved forward with silent steps, eyes scanning through the thick foliage until he finally saw her.

  The nymph stood in a small clearing, her long, flowing white dress draping over. The fabric was thin, almost translucent, clinging to her form in all the right places. Golden hair cascaded down her back, and her eyes locked onto Stefan’s the moment he laid eyes on her.

  So much for a sneak attack.

  She slowly lowered her flute, a coy smile gracing her lips. "Come now," she purred, "no need to hide in the shadows. Why don’t you step into the light?"

  Stefan exhaled through his nose, stepping into the clearing with an irritated roll of his shoulders. "How considerate," he muttered, his tone flat with sarcasm. "Most monsters like you don’t offer such a warm welcome."

  The nymph chuckled.

  She began to circle him, her bare feet barely making a sound against the grass, her eyes running over him like a predator sizing up her next meal. "Monster? That’s a bit cruel, isn’t it? You wound me, handsome."

  Stefan gave her a slow, unimpressed look. "If you’re looking for sympathy, I suggest you try your usual victims."

  She hummed in amusement, taking another step closer. "Oh, but you’re different. Strong. Capable. Dangerous." Her fingers trailed lightly across his arm, moving up to his shoulder before resting on his chest. "Wouldn't it be such a waste to spill blood when we could... share something else?"

  She leaned into him, pressing herself against him just enough to feel the warmth of his body. "I could make it worth your while."

  Stefan’s jaw ticked, eyes narrowing as he resisted the urge to groan in annoyance. He had no patience for this.

  With a flicker of motion, his igniter was out, the blade gliding up to press against her throat before she could utter another word. Just a few centimeters more, and he’d slice right through. The nymph went still, golden lashes fluttering as she stared at him with wide, startled eyes.

  Stefan smirked darkly. "Not interested."

  The nymph chuckled softly, but Stefan didn't miss the flicker of shock in her golden eyes. He could see it—the brief widening of her pupils, the subtle stiffening of her fingers. She wasn’t used to men resisting her charm, yet she still held her composure, masking her unease with a practiced, alluring smile.

  Slowly, she took a step back, pressing a delicate hand to her chest as if wounded. "W-why…?" Her voice trembled, her lower lip quivering. "Why do you look at me with such hatred? I have done nothing to you..." A single tear glided down her porcelain cheek, "Are men truly so cruel? Do you all see a lonely woman and assume she's a monster?"

  Stefan, unimpressed, remained silent. His grip on his igniter didn’t waver.

  The nymph stole a glance at him, searching for any sign of hesitation. But there was none. Her delicate sobs grew louder, her shoulders trembling as she buried her face into her hands, her whole body shaking with sorrow. But then—

  A giggle.

  It started soft. A stifled sound, almost playful. Then it grew. The weeping turned into breathless giggles, bubbling out of her throat. The sound twisted into something unsettling, her laughter stretching unnaturally, echoing through the trees.

  Then she stopped.

  Her golden eyes snapped open, and all traces of sadness and seduction had vanished, replaced by something cold. Emotionless.

  She tilted her head.

  "Fine. If you refuse to be charmed, we’ll just do this the hard way."

  The moment the words left her lips, her body convulsed. A sickening crack filled the air as her spine twisted unnaturally. Her limbs contorted, elongating grotesquely as her pale skin darkened to a deep, sickly green. Her delicate fingers stretched into jagged claws, nails blackened like sharpened obsidian. Her flowing white dress melted into her flesh, fusing with her new form, revealing a ribcage that protruded unnaturally, stretching against her grotesque, hollowed-out torso.

  Where her heart should have been—there was nothing.

  A gaping, pulsing hole lay in the center of her chest, black veins webbing outward like cracks in shattered porcelain. Her mouth split unnaturally wide, her lips peeling back to reveal rows of jagged, needle-like teeth. Her once beautiful hair slithered and coiled like living tendrils, writhing in anticipation. Her golden eyes had dulled to hollow, black pits, oozing a thick, inky substance that dripped onto the forest floor.

  A long, forked tongue slithered past her lips as she let out a guttural, inhuman growl, her voice now layered with unnatural distortions.

  "Now then," she rasped, her voice scraping against the night air like rusted metal. "Shall we dance?"

Recommended Popular Novels