The Vampires Torment

Chapter Five

Saraphina POV

**Seraphina's POV**

The night is young, the moon a brilliant beacon against the dark blue, black, and grey sky. Pure white snow blankets the ground, deep enough to dive into and swim. A cool breeze dances through my hair, the fresh, crisp winter air invigorating. The bonfire’s glow casts a warm, blissful light on this lovely winter night.

Nature is my essence, intertwined with my very being. I am a wolf, after all.

My brother scouts the village borders, my sister chases her whims, and the village keeper Koda is nowhere to be seen. Even my Lycan guards are absent. There’s so much happening around me, yet everyone seems out of reach.

The Lucian was right. Uncle Sabastian's mate, Mecca, is alive and well. She managed to escape and will return to the Northern Village soon. The news has spread joy throughout the wolf communities, including our little village of Quebec, now hosting a grand celebration.

I stand alone, distancing myself from the festivities.

I should be celebrating, joining in the laughter, dancing, and praising my Goddess. My chest should swell with joy, not this profound sorrow.

It warms my heart to know the Northern Luna is safe. Though I’ve never met her, she is family—my uncle’s mate, like an aunt to me. Her return, however, seals my fate.

My mating ceremony was scheduled for two moons from now. But someone thought it fitting for my uncle and me to share the same day. He plans to reclaim his Luna, and Prince Mathews will claim me. We are to return to the Northern Pack territory immediately, and the moment I step onto my uncle's land, I will be claimed before night’s end.

Ruq informed me that the Lycan King and Queen are also heading to the Northern Pack territory for their first Bonfire in werewolf history.

In conclusion, I’m doomed. All I can do is seek my mother’s strength and guidance.

As a pup, my father told me stories about the stars and the moon. He believed the light from space takes years to reach our eyes, that when we look at a star, we see years into the past. He said a soul from the past might be looking at the same stars. The same applied to the moon. When we look at it, we see one second into the past. If you looked at Earth from a distant planet, you’d see it as it was hundreds of years ago.

This belief runs strong in the Blackwood wolves, including myself. I believe my ancestor, my mother, is somewhere in the past, looking at the same stars and moon as I am now. As a child, I would sit on the beach and speak to her through the stars and the moon, praying the moon Goddess would whisper my words into my mother’s ear.

I fall to my knees, embracing the freezing snow, and pray, “Luna Goddess, I ask that you listen to my prayer and guide me. Carry my voice through the wind to a time before you blessed me with life,” I say, staring at the glowing moon.

After a moment of silence, I shift my gaze to the brightest star in the night sky. “Before tomorrow night’s moon ends, I will be mated. I will be mate to Mathews, the Lycan Prince.”

“He is everything a she-wolf would pray for in a mate: a warrior, strong and handsome, capable of protecting and providing. But he isn’t my perfect match.”

“He is not my mate, and I am afraid. He wasn’t chosen by our Goddess, and I feel barbaric. Yet, I can’t let my people suffer because of my selfishness. I was raised better than that. In exchange for my hand, the Lycans will fight alongside us against the vampires.”

“I’ve been told I should be grateful, humble, and honor the ground Prince Mathews walks on, sacrificing my mind, body, and soul to please his beast. But I don’t feel grateful. It’s becoming harder to stay humble, and where is the honor in giving my body to a stranger? I feel like I am betraying my wolf and my true mate. Tonight, I ask for a sign that this union is blessed.”

I shift my eyes back to the moon. “Or deliver me from this tragic fate,” I pray, tears falling down my face.

“Luna Goddess, before you go, please guide my path,” says a voice from behind me.

Quickly wiping my tears, I turn to face the intruder.

“I never heard of an easily frightened Blackwood,” says the intruder. It’s the Lucian.

I scramble to my feet. “How do you know I’m a Blackwood Wolf?”

“You just told me,” he says, stepping forward.

I take a step back. He studies me for a long while, an uncomfortable silence stretching between us before he sits on the ground. “I did a life sentence with a wolf who explained many things to me. Would you like to hear about it?” he asks, gesturing for me to sit beside him.

Ruq doesn’t trust the Lucian. To be fair, he trusts no one, especially outsiders. But I can’t blame him. We know little about their kind. I’m not sure I could defend myself against him if needed.

“I’m not going to bite,” he assures with a smile. “I’m a Lucian, more human than animal. If anything, I should be the one scared of you.”

“How do you know so much about wolves?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

“I already told you. I did a life sentence with a wolf who explained a lot to me. It’s an interesting tale,” he gloats. “Come, I’ll tell you all about it.”

I don’t budge. My wolf is on edge. “Fine, if you want to stand there like a living statue, be my guest.”

“Living statue?” I question.

“Yes, a living statue,” he chuckles. “The only thing you’re missing is some metallic paint.”

The wind picks up, and the temperature drops. Thanks to my wolf gene, the cold doesn’t bother me much. The same can’t be said about the Lucian, who shivers slightly.

He’s dressed for winter: a black long-sleeve shirt, black jeans, heavy black boots, and a thick black fur coat. His thick facial hair acts as another barrier against the cold. Now that he’s closer, I see he’s extremely handsome. The markings on his fingers and neck indicate he’s powerful.

His scent, a mix of peaches, watermelons, and jasmine, becomes more potent as the wind blows. I don’t know how I didn’t sense him before.

He shivers again, and I feel bad. “Are you cold?” I ask, a dumb question. Of course, he’s cold! “I can start a fire for you if you like.”

“A fire?” he repeats in disbelief. “You won’t sit beside me but offer to start a fire? What kind of wolf offers to start a fire?”

“A kind one,” I mumble.

“A kind wolf,” he mocks. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Are you sure you’re a wolf?” I ask myself that every day.

Another awkward silence passes before he speaks. “How about you take a seat, and I’ll explain how I know so much about your kind?”

“Why are you so eager for me to sit?” I question.

“Because you seem like you need good company, and so do I.”

“I thought you were with a group of Lucians.”

“I lied,” he responds nonchalantly.

I think over his offer. My brother would be furious if he found me alone with the Lucian, and my inner wolf isn’t fond of the idea. But the Lucian is right. I need good company.

“My brother won’t approve,”

“Do you always do what others tell you?” he comments. “Is that why you were crying through your wolf prayer?”

Embarrassment swallows me whole.

“You asked for a sign, right?” he questions. “Here it is. A Lucian, far from his element, practically begging you for a conversation. If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.”

I can’t help but laugh. He’s right.

With that in mind, I hesitantly sit on the snow. My wolf purrs, wanting to run wild. The Lucian, however, shivers with each gust of wind.

“I was serious about starting a fire,”

“I’m sure you were, little weird wolf.”

I snort. “Little weird wolf?”

“Yes, as weird as they come,” he jokes.

“I’ve never met a Lucian who knows about a wolf prayer. So I guess that makes you a weird Lucian.”

“Perhaps,” he agrees. “I learned a lot from my cellmate and shared my ways in return.”

“So, knowledge for knowledge?”

“Something like that,” he agrees. “Plus, we found a common enemy.”

“So you bonded over a common enemy?”

“Precisely,” he says. “Vampires.”

“I see,” I say, focusing on the snow. He does the same. After a moment, I speak again. “You’re here to meet your friend and join the brewing war?”

“Precisely,” he says, shrugging. “You don’t seem pleased. Why aren’t you celebrating? Aren’t you excited about the upcoming battle?”

“Why would I be excited about bloodshed?” The words slip out.

“Because you’re a wolf, a Blackwood wolf at that. Your kind has always been victorious in battle. You live for the thrill of the kill.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” I mumble. “But you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

“I see,” he states. Another awkward silence. The strangest conversation I’ve ever had

.

“What will you do now?”

“I’m not sure,” he shrugs again. “I’m a Lucian who spent more time in a cell than out in the real world. What can I do?”

“Are you an escaped convict?”

“No, I was released for good behavior,” he jokes. “In a sense, my freedom came at a cost. Our kind’s survival depends on our unity.”

“I understand,”

“I’m curious, little weird wolf. Why are you alone, crying to the moon?”

I’m taken aback by the question. “I’m sure you heard everything.”

“Not everything,” he admits. “But you were loud enough for me to understand.”

I blush. “I was praying for guidance.”

“You’re worried about mating with the Prince?”

“Among other things,” I admit.

“Like what?”

“I’m worried about my people,” I state. “But you wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

It’s funny. I’ve never spoken to a Lucian before, but he’s easy to talk to.

“My father told me stories about the stars and the moon,” I begin. “He believed the light from space takes years to reach our eyes, that when we look at a star, we see years into the past. He said a soul from the past might be looking at the same stars. The same applied to the moon. When we look at it, we see one second into the past. If you looked at Earth from a distant planet, you’d see it as it was hundreds of years ago.”

He listens intently.

“This belief runs strong in the Blackwood wolves, including myself. I believe my ancestor, my mother, is somewhere in the past, looking at the same stars and moon as I am now. As a child, I would sit on the beach and speak to her through the stars and the moon, praying the moon Goddess would whisper my words into my mother’s ear.”

He nods in understanding.

“I fall to my knees, embracing the freezing snow, and pray, ‘Luna Goddess, I ask that you listen to my prayer and guide me. Carry my voice through the wind to a time before you blessed me with life,’ I say, staring at the glowing moon.”

“You’re seeking guidance,” he says softly.

“Yes,” I whisper. “I’m scared.”

“I understand,” he says. “You’re not alone in this. We all seek guidance in one form or another.”

“Thank you,” I say, feeling a bit better.

“You’re welcome, little weird wolf.”

I laugh. “I think I like that name.”

He smiles. “Good, because I’m not changing it.”

We sit in silence, watching the stars and the moon. For the first time in a long while, I feel at peace.

**King Cyrus's POV**

I stand on top of the hill overlooking one of the small Northern villages, watching the haunting flames from their bonfire spark light into the night sky.

The sound of dogs howling, mutts laughing, and the entire beast squad enjoying their miserable lives hits my sensitive ears.

They are having a celebration, which is quite funny considering what's to come.

Tonight is the night that I shall remind these dogs who the f**k I am. If they wanted to get a reaction out of me, their mission has been accomplished. These dogs have no idea what they are dealing with.

They have no idea that the payment for their constant disrespect is blood, and it all starts here.

“Everything is in place,” reports my Commander, Ravana, as she walks up behind me. Ravana is in charge of all my forces. She is the best of the best. Her ability to react quickly is remarkable. Her combat skill when it comes to making the kill is thrilling.

The loyalty she holds for me is unquestionable.

Commander Ravana is a triple threat.

“And the camp bases?”

“Are set up, loaded with plenty of firepower, and heavily guarded,” she advises before I even have a chance to finish my questions. “I have spelled the barrier. No unwanted animals will be able to slip through undetected.”

In addition to Ravana's great qualities, she has inherited the gift to cast spells, which makes her a very valuable asset. Not too many people know about Ravana's witch ancestry, and not too many people know that she has managed to cast a spell on me.

I have lusted after her since the day I laid eyes on my hazel-eyed beauty.

“Good,” I praise, turning around to face her. The night is young, and Ravana is so beautiful. Her caramel skin glistens underneath the big and bright glowing moonlight. Ravana’s long-on-one-side, short-on-the-other-side haircut gives her delicate facial features the attention they deserve.

I place my hand underneath her smooth chin, and she shivers. The reaction I have over her body always makes my desire flare. Ravana’s heavily pierced ears and the piercing on the right side of her cute pert nose aid the illusion of her being such a badass, and in so many ways, she actually is.

But I’ve received the chance to dig a little deeper, and underneath her tough-girl facade lies a sugary sweet immortal.

“Don’t,” she says, taking a single step back.

“Ravana, what happened to us? Why were you so eager to place space between us?”

“Because space is what’s needed,” she admits, and then turns to walk into the wooded clearing. I follow right after her. Ravana is the only soul on this earth who has managed to gain an ounce of compassion from me.

I hurt her on too many occasions. I refused to announce her as my queen and continued to dip and dab as I pleased. Apparently, she has had enough of my playboy nature.

“I miss you. I really do, but I think it’s best to no longer mix business with pleasure,” she admits, lifting her head high up to the sky.

I cup her face with my hands. “Our business has always been pleasurable.”

She looks into my eyes. “I need more, Cyrus,” she explains. “I need to know that one day you will be able to give me more.”

I run my finger over her smooth lips. “You know I can’t do that.” I really can’t. She looks at me and then stares back into the sky.

“Then it’s really nothing to discuss. In fact, it is not the time or the place to have this conversation anyway. Your mind needs to be clear and ready for battle.” Ravana speaks with a wise tongue.

Another reason why I’m so attracted to her.

“You know better than anyone that I was born war-ready.” I tease, just to see her smile.

“You were,” she smiles, giving me what I want. “I can all but feel your monster wicked anticipation.”

Suddenly, a collection of falling stars streaks across the darkened night sky, sparking hope into Ravana’s eyes. She is a big believer in the stars, moon, and sun speaking the language of love.

“Make a wish,” she asks me.

“No,” I groan. She knows damn well I don’t believe in this superstitious nonsense.

“Please,” she pleads, poking out her lips.

I take a look at the shower of falling stars. “I wish by tonight’s end, I’ll have the love of my life inside my bed.”

I take a moment to look into her wide hazel eyes. “Be careful what you wish for, Ruthless King.” I hate when she uses my title.

The presence of one of my best men, Marko, requesting access to mind-link with me, prevents me from responding. “What is it?” I question him.

“The dogs’ celebration is over,” he answers quickly. Great! Now, it’s time for their funerals.

“Attack,” I command, before closing my mind off completely. Then I place my now red vision back onto Ravana. “It’s time.”