<h4>Chapter 625: Saving Her King (IV)</h4>


    <strong><i>[Third Person].</i></strong>


    The capital streets were no longer orderly.


    A carriagey overturned near the market square. Smoke curled from shatterednterns. The powerless wolves fled in scattered groups as pce warriors tried to form defensive lines.


    Just then, a vampire lunged toward a mother shielding her child and was intercepted mid-air.


    A wolf mmed into him with brutal force, sending both crashing into stone.


    Wanda didn’t hesitate. She fought cleanly and precisely. Her title of being one of Stormveil’s female finest warriors wasn’t earned through underhanded means.


    Wanda’s jaws closed around the vampire’s throat before he could recover and snapped his neck. Then, she released him without ceremony and pivoted instantly as another rushed from the side.


    At the same time, Levi shifted beside her. Together, they moved as if they had trained for this since childhood, covering blind spots and anticipating movements.


    Coincidentally, Levi, who had returned home the previous night, was with Wanda this morning when the news of the vampire invasion reached their family’s residence, so he headed out with her to protect the capital together.


    "Behind you!" a man shouted.


    Wanda ducked, rolled, and tore into the vampire’s abdomen before he could regain speed. She guarded the civilians first.


    A whileter, people began to recognize her.


    "That’s Wanda Fellowes!"


    "She’s protecting us!"


    Wanda heard none of it. Her focus was locked, yet beneath her control, something gnawed at her.


    Vampires suddenly invading their territory and attacking them openly during the day was not random.


    They were definitely here for something. But most importantly, someone had aided them inside.


    ---


    Inside the Grand Hall, chaos finally reached the doors.


    Oscar returned swiftly, followed by pce guards carrying reinforced spears tipped with silver alloy, and heavy crossbows, pulled from the armoury reserves.


    "Distribute them," Oscar ordered.


    Several Alphas shifted without waiting for further instruction. Massive wolves filled the hall—fur bristling, fangs bared. Even two of the Elders, despite their age, transformed with snarls, refusing to cower in human skin.


    The pce doors trembled briefly, then exploded inward.


    An elite unit of disciplined vampires surged inside. They moved in formation, splitting instantly to iste their targets.


    The first wolf Alpha faced them directly, jaws snapping. A vampire ducked, shed, and would have disembowelled him, but Draven was already moving.


    Without shifting, he crossed the distance faster than most could see and caught the vampire by the throat mid-motion.


    The creature hissed, its ws shing toward his face, but Draven crushed his windpipe with one hand and snapped his neck with the other. The body dropped.


    Two more lunged at him simultaneously. He pivoted them smoothly, seized one by the wrist, drove his elbow through its chest, and flung the corpse into the second attacker with such force that both crashed into the pirs lining the hall.


    The Alphas roared and joined fully. Steel shed, teeth tore, and blood sttered across marble floors once pristine.


    An Elder, in wolf form, tackled a vampire trying to reach the raised throne steps. Oscar fired a crossbow bolt through another’s skull at point-nk range.


    The elite unit fought fiercely, but they were losing ground. Within minutes, thest of themy broken.


    Silence began to reim the hall, breathing heavy with blood thick in the air. Just then, an Alpha wiped crimson from his mouth and growled, "If this is the best they have—"


    The rest of his words hung in the air as the hall’s temperature suddenly dropped. Cold crept along the floor like frost as the torches flickered.


    Every wolf in the hall stiffened at once.


    Just then, the pce doors, already shattered, darkened at the entrance as a shadow stretched long across the marble.


    Then she stepped through. Tall,posed and ancient.


    Her armour was dark and elegant, not heavy but fitted like a second skin. Her hair fell long and ck against pale shoulders. Her eyes were not feral like the others’. They were intelligent and calcting.


    Her presence alone silenced the room. And behind her, more vampires entered, but they did not charge. Instead, they parted slightly as if instinctively making way.


    Draven straightened slowly as recognition hit him like a de to the ribs.


    The woman smiled knowingly and tilted her head slightly, studying him as though he were something she had been searching for.


    Her voice, when it came, was smooth and almost amused.


    "Brother."


    And the hall froze. The cold silencested for what seemed like a lifetime before Draven broke it as he returned to sit on his throne, now realizing whose idea it was to rally vampires and attack Stormveil.


    "Este." He didn’t address her with the respect of an older sister, she was to him.


    Este stepped fully into the Grand Hall as though she had been invited. Her boots clicked softly against the blood-stained floor.


    Finally, she stopped several steps below Draven and looked up, studying him like one would study a painting long thought destroyed.


    Her smile curved faintly. "Seems like you’ve grown into it. The throne."


    Draven’s voice was level. "You shouldn’t havee."


    She tilted her head. "And miss this?"


    Her gaze sweptzily across the hall—Alphas in partial wolf forms, Elders gripping silver-tipped weapons, Oscar standing alert at Draven’s side.


    "Stormveil looks smaller than I remember."


    An Elder, braver or more foolish than the rest, stepped forward. "Why have you returned after exile? You were banished by decree."


    Este’s eyes slowly slid toward him, and the temperature seemed to drop further. Then, she descended the remaining steps and began walking toward the Elder.


    The wolves around him shifted defensively, forming a partial wall.


    Seeing this, Esteughed with something unhinged beneath it. "Do you realize," she asked softly, "that your life is currently in my hands?"


    The Elder stiffened.


    Este didn’t even look back as she lifted one finger. Instantly, her vampire soldiers moved like a tide closing in.


    They surrounded the wolves in the hall in seconds—blurring speed, silent coordination—cutting off escape routes. The Alphas snarled, but they were badly outnumbered.


    A ripple of tension moved through the chamber.


    Draven’s jaw tightened. "Enough," he said coldly.


    Este’s attention returned to him. She walked back toward the throne up the steps one at a time. No one dared strike her yet.


    She stopped in front of him, close enough that only he could hear her next words. Her expression softened into something almost intimate.


    "You always were mother’s favourite mistake," she murmured near his ear.