Chapter 7
The leaves rustled to the tune of the late evening wind. In the far distance, an owl hooted, adding to the twilight environ in the forest. The air was chilly, and most animals had already retreated to their safe havens, paving way for the night predators.
In the evening glare, silhouettes flashed under the darkness that was slowly creeping in. In their wake, dry leaves whizzed, bringing about a mysterious breeze.
"This is boring," Isaac muttered, as he screeched to a sudden stop. "We've been in here for hours, and all we've seen are trees and more trees. Where's the fun in that?"
Julian stopped beside him and looked around before shooting him a sidelong glance, his expression unamused. "Patience, brother. This particular part of the forest has secrets. You just have to know where to look."
As if on cue, the duo stumbled upon a clearing where a small herd of spotted Saolas grazed peacefully. In sequence, more vampires arrived in the clearing and stood behind Julian and Isaac, their eyes staring ravenously at the herd.
The creatures were rare, their sleek coats dappled with white spots that shimmered in the twilight. They were vital to the witches, essential for crafting powerful ancient spells. But to the vampires, their blood was a rare delicacy—a source of energy so potent it had the ability to amplify their power and strength for an extended period of time.
The Saolas weren't unguarded, they were being herded by ten women dressed for action. Combat regalia that made it seem like they were guarding regality, armed with long swords. Upon the sudden appearance of the vampires, they immediately stood vigilant, placing the animals in the midst of their protective circle.
"Jackpot" Isaac murmured, his eyes bright and voice laced with greed. His grin widened as he stepped forward.
"Now what are a bunch of witches doing in a forest at this time?"
When he received no response, he continued
"Would you kindly hand over those goats, it's been a long day and we are feeling a little bit hungry."
"These aren't goats, and you cannot have them. But you are welcome to whatever else the forest offers, just a few miles to the East you'll find a large herd of buffalos. I'm positive they'll be more than enough to quench your hunger." One of the women stepped forward and said
"We are not here for the buffalos." Isaac said
"These animals are sacred to us, taking them will be a violation of a centuries old treaty that our ancestors made. "the woman replied
Isaac tilted his head, his grin turning predatory. "Do you know who we are?"
The witch hesitated, her gaze flickering to Julian before returning to Isaac. "I do."
"Then you should know better than to deny us," Isaac said, his tone sharp as a blade. "You're standing in the presence of the ruler of Northwind Reach, its defense minister, and the royal lineage of the vampires. You should be bowing."
The witch's jaw tightened, but she stood her ground. "Respectfully, we can't allow you to have the Saolas. They are the last remaining herd and their existence is vital to us, more vital than our existence."
Julian, who had been silently observing the exchange, finally stepped forward. His movements were slow and deliberate, his authority stamped. "No one denies the ruler of Northwind Reach anything," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
Before anyone could react, Julian moved like a flash of lightning. In an instant, he had one of the Saolas in his grasp, his fangs sinking into its neck. The creature let out a strangled cry before going limp, its blood staining Julian's lips as he drank deeply.
The witches reacted immediately, their hands glowing with magical energy as they drew their swords, but Isaac was faster. He stepped in front of them, his eyes blazing with menace. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, his voice a low growl. "Unless, of course, you value your lives so little."
The other vampires fanned out, surrounding the witches in a tight circle. Their eyes glowed with hunger, their fangs bared in anticipation. The witches hesitated, their magic flickering uncertainly as they weighed their options.
Julian, his eyes glowing a bright red, dropped the drained Saola and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Isaac," he said, his voice calm but commanding. "Join me."
Isaac didn't need to be told twice. He lunged at another Saola, his fangs sinking into its throat with a ferocity that sent a shiver down the spines of the witches. One by one, the vampires followed suit, their hunger driving them to slaughter the sacred animals without mercy.
The witch stepped forward again, her voice trembling with anger. "Miles Storm won't stand for this," she said, her eyes blazing. "You've broken one of the oldest rules of coexistence between vampires and witches. You've just declared war on the witch community."
Julian laughed, the sound cold and hollow. "War? With vampires? Don't be ridiculous. You'd never win. Miles Storm himself would slit his own throat if I told him to."
The witch's hands clenched into fists, her magic flaring brighter, making her sword glow brighter. "An uprising of rebel witches isn't something the continent can handle let alone vampires. We'll replace Miles Storm in a matter of weeks and we'll have the vampires pay for your misdeeds. You've already declared war on the witches on the very first week of governance."
Isaac stepped forward, his grin widening. "Oh, I'm scared," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "But here's the thing—no one will know it was us who did it."
Before the witch could respond, Isaac moved with inhuman speed, his fangs sinking into her throat. She let out a choked gasp, her magic flickering and dying as her lifeblood drained away. The other vampires followed his lead, attacking the remaining witches with brutal efficiency. They were dangerously outnumbered and practically speaking, no match for royal-blooded vampires who just feasted on Saolas.
Julian watched the carnage with a detached calm, his eyes scanning the clearing until they landed on one witch who had managed to avoid the initial onslaught by placing a protective bubble around her. She was young, her face pale with terror as she stared at her slain comrades.
Julian moved like a shadow, arriving in front of her in an instant millisecond. He examined the bubble for a second before he took out a dagger from his belt and nicked his finger. It only took a drop of his blood for the bubble to instantly disappear, his hand closing around her throat before she could escape. He lifted her off the ground, his red eyes boring into hers. "Listen carefully," he said, his voice a low, hypnotic whisper. "You will go back to your people. You will tell them that the shifters did this. Do you understand?"
The witch's eyes glazed over, her will crumbling under the weight of Julian's compulsion. "Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Julian dropped her, watching as she stumbled to her feet and fled into the forest. He turned to Isaac, his expression unreadable. "Clean this up. Make sure there's no evidence of a vampire's presence in this…mess."
Isaac nodded, his grin never faltering. "Consider it done."