<h4>Chapter 219: The Vampire Attack (I)</h4>


    <strong><i>(Third Person).</i></strong>


    A few hours after dinner, Draveny on his side, his body pressed against Meredith’s back, his arm wrapped over her, palm cupping the fullness of her breast as though it was simply where his hand belonged.


    His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, his presence grounding.


    Meredith stared into the dim shadows across the room. Though her body was rxed, her mind refused to rest.


    Tension coiled in her belly — not from Draven’s touch, but from the unseen threat creeping closer with each second.


    Still, she couldn’t help but wonder...


    "Are you asleep?" she asked softly.


    A low breath warmed the curve of her neck. Then, without warning, his fingers gently squeezed her breast.


    "I’m trying," he murmured in a gravel-drenched voice, "but your scent is driving me mad."


    A small smile tugged at her lips, despite herself.


    That one line — spoken with the kind of husky restraint only Draven possessed — was enough to ease the tight knot of nerves forming in her chest.


    She exhaled slowly, allowing herself one more second of peace. Maybe two.


    But that peace shattered just miles away — along the northern stretch of the estate, where the earth sloped near the old, less-fortified fence line.


    The shadows moved.


    A single figurended soundlessly on the dew-damp grass. Then two more.


    Their movements were almost ghostlike — blurs of motion cloaked in moonlight.


    They vaulted the fence in silence,nding with inhuman grace. Then three morended, and a few secondster, four more appeared.


    There were ten in total.


    They crouched low, scanning the surrounding grounds with eerie stillness.


    One of them — a vampire with long pale hair and hollow, angr features — raised his chin, sniffing the air as though savouring the scent of blood and stone.


    His eyes flickered, and then he moved fast.


    A guard barely had time to lift his head before the vampire lunged, fangs piercing the side of his neck with a sickening crunch.


    No scream escaped the werewolf’s lips—only a strangled grunt that died before it could sound.


    The vampire drank deeply, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy.


    Then, letting the lifeless body drop, he wiped the back of his hand across his blood-smeared mouth and turned to the others.


    "Kill anyone in your path," he ordered in a raspy voice. "But the Alpha... leave him to me."


    The others nodded, slipping deeper into the shadows of the estate like liquid night.


    ---


    Inside Draven’s bedroom, the sudden echo of Jeffery’s voice filled Draven’s head, the mental link humming to life.


    "They are here, Alpha"


    Draven’s eyes opened instantly.


    He sat up without hesitation, his arm leaving Meredith’s waist, his expression hardening in the moonlight that cut across the floor.


    "How many?" he asked aloud, already moving to swing his legs over the edge of the bed.


    Jeffery’s voice answered smoothly inside his mind. "Ten. They have already taken two guards."


    Draven’s jaw clenched.


    <i>Ten? Just ten?</i>


    "They’re underestimating us," he growled. "That’s an insult."


    He was expecting at least twenty tonight, but it looked like those blood-sucking demons thought so lowly of them.


    Draven’s body moved like coiled steel, not a trace of sleep left in him. He reached for the ck shirt draped over the chair and slid it on with precise movements.


    "I will be there in two minutes," he added through the link, his voice cold with resolve.


    From behind him, Meredith sat up, the tension already radiating from her posture.


    "Are the vampires here?" she asked with a glint of fear in her eyes.


    "Yes," Draven replied, his tone softening. "Sleep. I will be back soon."


    ---


    Draven moved swiftly down the corridor, his eyes were sharp, glinting with cold focus under the hallway sconces as his boots echoed against the tiled floor.


    His pace was steady but urgent, the calm before the storm brewing beneath his skin.


    He stopped in front of Dennis’s bedroom door and gave it a firm knock. A few seconds passed before the door creaked open.


    Dennis appeared, shirtless, eyes half-lidded with sleep.


    Before Dennis could fully yawn or ask questions, Draven spoke in a low,manding tone. "A few vampires have entered the estate. Ten of them. Get dressed."


    The words jolted Dennis from his drowsy state. His brows shot up in surprise, but Draven was already turning away, his back disappearing down the hall.


    "Shit," Dennis muttered under his breath.


    He pivoted inside, grabbed a ck shirt hanging from a nearby chair, and hurriedly tugged it on.


    He didn’t even bother with his shoes—he was already sprinting barefoot down the stairs, buttoning his shirt mid-run.


    By the time he reached the second-floornding, he had shifted slightly—his pupils thinned to slits, his skin buzzing with a faint golden sheen. His senses had sharpened.


    When he burst out the front doors, the cool night air pped his face.


    He paused briefly on the porch, scanning the perimeter. He saw no sign of Draven.


    Then—<i>whhhssssh</i>—a faint sound, like wind brushing against metal. It came from the direction of the eastern clearing near the training grounds.


    Dennis stilled, his instincts ring. Then immediately, he took off in that direction.


    As he crossed into the quieter section of the property, the silence became unnerving. The grass beneath his feet barely rustled.


    The trees stood still, frozen in eerie anticipation. Then it happened again—<i>woosh</i>—a blur passed behind him.


    Dennis stopped dead in his tracks.


    "You must be kidding me," he muttered darkly, turning in ce.


    Dennis was so furious as the bad memory from that day in the thick woods, a vampire sneaked an attack on him, came flooding back into his head.


    To think that the same movements before the attacks happened were repeating themselves was enough to make him mad.


    Right there, his ws extended with a soft <i>shhhk</i>. His body dropped into a half-crouch, eyes narrowing, ready for whatever was circling him.


    He didn’t need to see; he listened and felt the vibrations in the air—the subtle shift of energy.


    And right then, Dennis pivoted and lunged backwards just in time, his arm snapping out to grab a shadowy figure by the throat mid-strike.


    "I caught you, bastard!" he snarled, his voice filled with venom.


    The vampire struggled—barely. Dennis didn’t give him the chance to retaliate.


    With a growl, he mmed the vampire against a tree, then twisted. The loud crack of bones breaking echoed sharply into the night.


    A heartbeatter, Dennis’s ws shed across the vampire’s neck, severing it in one brutal sweep. Blood sprayed the grass, and the vampire crumpled.


    Dennis exhaled heavily, his chest rising and falling. There was satisfaction—but only briefly.


    "Damn," he muttered to himself, "I wasn’t supposed to ruin the body..."


    "Well," a voice drawled from behind him, "that would’ve been a helpful thought ten seconds earlier."


    Dennis turned to see Jeffery approaching calmly from the shadows, his expression unreadable. His eyes flicked over the mutted body before meeting Dennis’s gaze.


    "You were not supposed to disfigure the body," Jeffery reminded, arms folded. "We need it intact—for evidence."


    Dennis sighed, exasperated. "Unfortunately, I was too pissed and totally forgot."


    Jeffery didn’t respond at first. He just stared at the headless vampire corpse, then finally pped Dennis’s shoulder with a tight nod.


    "Let’s go kill more of these things."


    A wry grin stretched across Dennis’s face. "Now that I can do without messing up the bodies."


    They exchanged a wordless look—brothers in arms—and took off deeper into the shadows, disappearing into the trees where more of the enemy waited.