<h4>Chapter 224: Back in Stormveil</h4>


    <strong><i>Draven.</i></strong>


    The air was crisp, the sky a deep grey with hints ofvender as the first light of dawn crept slowly over the estate.


    It was just past five a.m. The courtyard was quiet, save for the low idle of five ck jeeps lined up in precision, their headlights glowing faintly in the morning fog.


    I stood steps away from the third jeep, the morning wind tugging slightly at my coat. Meredith was in front of me, her hand cradled gently between mine. She wore a thick robe, her silver hair pulled back loosely, and the look in her eyes made me hesitate.


    She reached out, cupping my arm. "Call me as soon as you get home."


    I nodded. "I will."


    "I mean it, Draven."


    "I promise."


    I squeezed her arm gently and leaned closer, cing a kiss against her temple. Her scent lingered on me even after I pulled away.


    Behind me, Dennis approached. "Safe travels, Brother," he said, nodding once. "And trust me to take care of your house. Nothing will go wrong on my watch."


    I studied his face for a beat—serious, alert—and gave a curt nod. "I trust you. Make sure she continues training."


    Dennis grinned. "Don’t worry. I will break her in."


    Meredith raised a brow, but I didn’t give either of them time to continue their yful bickering. I turned, opened the passenger side door of the third jeep, and got in.


    Jeffery was already in the other seat. He didn’t say much except for a nod.


    And just like that, the convoy rolled out of the courtyard, tires crunching over gravel as we headed for the open road.


    ---


    A few hours into the journey, we reached Duskmoor’s border.


    The checkpoints were heavily guarded, but as expected, no one moved to stop us. The guards nced at our convoy, recognized the emblem on the third jeep, and quickly stepped aside, lowering the road barrier.


    Jeffery exhaled through his nose. "Looks like Brackham knows better than to go back on his word."


    I stared ahead. "It wasn’t a word kept. It was amand obeyed—out of guilt."


    Jeffery hummed in agreement. "At least he has the brains to know when to give in."


    We drove on, leaving the outskirts of Duskmoor behind and diving into the heart of the wilderness. Trees grew taller, closer. The sunlight barely touched the forest floor. The scent of wet leaves and soil clung to the air.


    Jeffery’s voice broke the silence again. "Alpha, do you think the vampires have reached this part of the woods?"


    I released a long breath. "I hope not."


    I nced out the window, watching the blur of green and bark pass us. "If they’ve made it this far, it means they’re too close to our home. Stormveil won’t be safe."


    ---


    Hours passed, and the daylight began to fade into a soft gold. As we made our way uphill through a rocky path, a new sight appeared beyond the thinning treeline.


    Massive bs of fortified stone, reinforced with steel and arcane runes, stretched across the horizon. The Great Wall, though still unfinished—but was clearly half-done.


    The workers moved about with purpose.


    The chauffeur slowed the jeep down at mymand and I leaned forward to get a better view.


    "It’sing along," Jeffery said.


    "It has to," I replied. "If war breaks out... that wall will be the only thing standing between us and serious casualties."


    We ate quietly, the warmth from the bento boxesforting against the chill. Chicken skewers, wild rice, and spiced vegetables.


    I ate without much thought, but my mind kept circling back to Stormveil—to King Alderic—to the council of Elders.


    Then there was Brackham and his cohorts, and the Vampires.


    ---


    The sky turned a deeper gray-blue as we neared Stormveil’s border. The road grew smoother, cleaner. And then, as we rounded a bend, the glimmer of rune-bound wards stretched across the air in faint blue lines—Stormveil’s protective seal.


    Security was tight.


    King Alderic had done exactly what I asked.


    Dozens of guards stood at the border checkpoint—some armored, some in fur and leather. They heldrge rifles and spearsced with silver.


    As we approached, the guards stepped aside after recognizing the convoy. No one dared dy or question me.


    We passed through, and the terrain changed. The cold bit sharper here. The trees more familiar. Stormveil was home.


    And ahead, nestled at the edge of the mountain slope, stood Oatrun Estate—ancient, regal, and still as proud.


    The jeeps pulled into the inner courtyard, engines dying down one after another.


    The moment the convoy halted in the cobbled courtyard of Oatrun Estate, the front doors of the house burst open with familiar force.


    Randall Oatrun—my father—strode out with the confident ease of a man whose bloodline had ruled Stormveil for generations.


    His hair was swept back, his ck overcoat ring slightly behind him in the wind. And on his face, a wide smile that mirrored pride and anticipation.


    "Draven!" His voice echoed across the stone drive.


    I stepped out of the jeep, Jeffery exiting from the other side. The other guards filed out in sequence, each one bowing his head respectfully.


    "Wee home, my son," my father said, sping my shoulder with one hand, his eyes gleaming like a man who had waited years for this moment.


    "Father," I replied with a nod. "You look well."


    "I feel even better now that I know you’ve brought what we’ve been needing." His gaze swept the convoy like a predator searching for his prize. Then his voice lowered, serious. "Where are the vampire bodies?"


    Without a word, I turned slightly toward the back of the line of jeeps. The gesture was small, but the guards understood immediately.


    Two of them broke off from the line and moved to the final vehicles. Within seconds, the rear trunks opened with metallic hisses, exposing the dark matte body bags, lined carefully inside.


    Father’s chuckle rumbled in his chest as he began walking toward thest jeep like a boy on his way to open presents.


    "Preserved," I said calmly, stepping beside him, "but I wouldn’t rmend exposing them to open air for long. The scent won’t be kind to your senses."


    He waved a hand in dismissal. "You forget, I’ve stood over battlefields stacked with the corpses of the enemy. A few dead bloodsuckers won’t disturb me."


    Even so, his grin hadn’t faded. If anything, it widened with each step closer.


    He leaned slightly over one of the open trunks. "How many?"


    "Four bodies here," I answered. "Ten attacked. We killed eight in total. Two escaped."


    Father grunted, pleased but still visibly calcting. "Four is more than enough to shake the council from their ridiculous sleep."