Chapter 33: Warnings

Marcel entered the hall like an unannounced death.

There was no dramatic announcement, no drawn weapon, no visible display of force. He simply walked through the open doors with the quiet, absolute presence of a Vampire Lord who had stopped pretending to be polite. The air itself seemed to thin, conversations died mid-sentence. Wolves nearest the entrance instinctively stepped back, shoulders tightening, eyes lowering for a fraction of a second before pride forced them up again. Every predator in the room recognized the same thing at once:

This one was dangerous.

Marcel’s black eyes swept the hall once and locked onto the scene in the side corridor that opened into the main space.

Adrian pinned against the cracked stone wall, Conrad’s hand still locked around his throat.

Asher standing a few paces away, surrounded by wolves, the side of his face visibly swollen and darkening into a bruise.

Something cold and lethal moved behind Marcel’s expression. For a single heartbeat the pressure in the hall spiked hard enough that several of the younger wolves flinched.

He did not attack. Losing control here would give Conrad an immediate excuse to harm the two people Marcel had come for. It would also turn a retrieval into an open declaration of war between vampires and the strongest wolf faction in living memory. Marcel had not survived centuries by indulging every urge to tear an enemy’s throat out, no matter how justified.

He walked forward at a measured pace until he stood a clear distance from Conrad, hands relaxed at his sides, voice calm and carrying.

"Release my brother."

Conrad’s golden eyes glittered with amusement, and a wicked smile spread across his face. He did not loosen his grip, if anything he felt the urge to tighten it just to see what the vampire lord would do.

"You came all this way for him?"

"I came for both of them."

Conrad’s fingers tightened fractionally around Adrian’s throat. Adrian’s boots scraped against the stone as he was forced higher onto his toes. A low, involuntary sound escaped him.

Marcel’s gaze flicked to his brother’s face. The muscle in his jaw tightened once, and the urge to close the distance and remove Conrad’s hand permanently rose sharp and immediate. But he managed to force it down. Adrian might be annoying to a fault, he might be stubborn and reckless sometimes, but he was still Marcel’s brother. And Marcel would go any length for this particular brother of his.

When he spoke again, the words were the same, only colder.

"Release my brother."

Conrad held the stare for a long moment. Then he laughed, low and genuine, and opened his hand.

Adrian dropped, catching himself against the wall with a rough gasp. He bent forward, one hand at his throat, dragging air back into his lungs. When he straightened, he did not look at Marcel. He already knew there would be consequences later for taking Asher out of the manor without permission. Right now he was simply grateful that the punishment had not begun in front of the entire wolf stronghold.

Marcel’s attention shifted. He looked at Asher, at the bruise, at the carefully blank expression, at the way the wolves still stood too close around him, then he turned his full focus back to Conrad. He didn’t want to stare at Asher for another second longer, if he had done so, he likely would have torn someone’s head apart. They had harmed him, bruised his face—

Marcel stopped himself before he could think about any more enraging thoughts. He shouldn’t lose himself yet, not without finding out why Conrad had decided to step out of line. ℴℴ𝘮

"Why did you attack and kidnap a Vampire Lord and his guest on the open road?"

Conrad spread his hands in a mockery of hospitality, the scar on his face pulling with his smile.

"As old friends, I’d prefer we discuss this over a beer. No need to make the entire hall uncomfortable."

Marcel was silent for several seconds. Every instinct rejected the idea of sitting across a table from the man who currently had Asher under his control. Politics and the need to keep Asher breathing won.

"Very well."

Conrad gestured, and the crowd of wolves parted. A smaller side chamber off the main hall was cleared within moments. Marcel entered first, followed by Conrad. Adrian was allowed to accompany them after a pointed look from Marcel; Asher was brought in by two escorts and directed to stand near the wall rather than sit. Marcel noted the positioning and said nothing. Yet.

A servant set down two mugs of dark beer, but neither man touched them.

Conrad leaned back in his chair, golden eyes half-lidded and satisfied.

"I’m at war," he said simply. "Rival packs. Certain territories that have forgotten the old borders. I needed an advantage. Your human fortune teller has a reputation. Clearer sight than most seers twice his age. I took the opportunity when it presented itself."

Marcel’s voice remained level. "And how long do you intend to keep using him?"

"As long as he remains useful and functional."

Marcel bit back the rage that wanted to engulf him. If Conrad knew the human was with him, why hadn’t he simply come to ask if his fortune can be read? Marcel likely wouldn’t have allowed it, but it would have saved them from a lot of trouble. However, power had clearly gotten into Conrad’s head, it was why he thought he could pull these stunts without being reprimanded.

Marcel rose from his chair in one smooth motion. He did not raise his voice. He did not reach for a weapon. He simply looked down at the Alpha with the full weight of a Vampire Lord who had already decided the limits of his tolerance.

"The boy is my mate," Marcel said. "I will not be leaving him here."

Conrad’s smile thinned. He remained seated, but the amusement in his eyes cooled into something harder.

"Then I suppose we have a problem."

Marcel’s gaze did not waver.

"Do not get in my way, Conrad. If you do, your pack will lose its Alpha."