Every vampire possessed superhuman speed and strength, regardless of whether they carried the blood of the first vampires. These gifts were the foundation of their dominion over all creatures, allowing them to establish kingdoms, with mortals and magical beings alike serving under their rule—some aware of their true nature, others blissfully ignorant. It was these powers that made them predators in a world of prey, rulers in a world of servants.
Leonard reached into his pocket, feeling the smooth glass of the vial against his fingers. Normally, he could simply throw it, but in a battle against someone as cunning as Theashee, that was far too risky. One wrong throw and she could counter him, unleash her magic, or worse, escape. No—he would need stealth, precision, and control.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He tapped into another gift, one few knew he possessed: super speed.
Before Theashee could even inhale, Leonard blurred across the misty forest floor, appearing directly in front of her. The vial shattered against her face with a sharp crack, liquid splashing across her cracked, dry skin. A red rash spread instantly, as if acid had been poured over her.
"AHHH!" Theashee screamed, her voice splitting the fog like a jagged blade. She clutched her face and sank to her knees, pain radiating through every nerve. Her vision blurred, and the sting seemed to crawl down her arms, twisting her body with agony.
The vines that had ensnared Leonard's men slackened, dropping them to the damp forest floor. They gasped, rubbing their throats and lungs, trying to catch their breath. But Leonard ignored them. His eyes never left Theashee.
"You three—fetch our horses," he said smoothly, his voice steady despite the chaos. Without question, the men obeyed, vanishing into the thick mist, leaving Leonard alone with the witch.
Leonard crouched slightly, his midnight eyes boring into hers. "Theashee," he said, his tone deceptively calm, yet commanding enough that even her fear could not make her move. The sting on her face faded slightly, though her body felt as if every bone and nerve were being yanked by invisible anchors. She could not move, could not speak. Paralysis gripped her limbs.
Her green eyes shot daggers at him, recognizing immediately who was behind her sudden immobilization.
Leonard's lips curved into a cruel smile. "A werewolf bit my father, the King. Are you aware of this?"
Theashee refused to answer, glancing away with venom in her gaze.
The corner of Leonard's lips twitched into a sinister grin. "The formula on your face paralyzes witches… permanently," he said, letting the words hang in the air. Though he knew it wasn't true, the panic it sparked in her was enough. Fear made even the most powerful beings susceptible to manipulation.
Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched. The thought of being frozen, trapped forever in one place, sent shivers down her spine. She could feel the forest closing in, the fog thickening, every shadow crawling toward her like a living thing.
Biting her inner cheek, she finally whispered, "I am aware of the werewolf biting the King."
Leonard's smile broadened, satisfied. "There is a barrier shielding this kingdom from the werewolves. No creature could penetrate it without the help of a particular shrine witch. Correct, Theashee?"
Theashee drew a ragged breath, her hands still trembling. "It is correct."
Leonard hummed softly, leaning casually against a moss-covered tree. "How was the spell performed?"
"I channeled the powers of my sisters… the ones you killed," she spat, hatred and grief flickering across her ashy face. "It wasn't easy. I nearly died. But I didn't care… as long as I hurt someone connected to you."
Leonard's expression remained impassive, calm as a lake before a storm. "And how did you obtain such knowledge?" His eyes narrowed slightly, already suspecting outside involvement. He needed confirmation.
A wicked grin tugged at her lips. "A masked man brought me this information. I didn't need bribes when I learned it concerned you. The King won't survive this winter… How does that feel?"
Leonard rolled his eyes, dismissing her theatrics as one would a foolish child.
By then, the guards returned with the horses. Leonard pushed off the tree, running a hand along his steed's temple before mounting silently. Without a word to Theashee, he kicked his horse into motion. The others followed in perfect formation.
Theashee's panic flared. "Hey! HEY!!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the foggy forest. "You son of a b*tch! Don't leave me here!"
Leonard didn't respond. The formula's effects would last hours, and he had no intention of rescuing her immediately. He had other priorities—the masked man. He had to find him. The witch could recover once the potion wore off, but the trail she left, the information she held, and the secrets she had been forced to reveal were invaluable.
The fog thickened behind him as he rode, and the forest seemed to sigh, whispering secrets of power and death. The trees leaned closer, the shadows deeper. Leonard's mind raced, calculating the possibilities: the masked man's identity, his motives, and the network he had woven.
Somewhere in the twisting depths of the Shrine Forest, hidden in the high branches, another pair of green eyes followed him. Observant, patient, calculating. One wrong step could turn the hunter into the hunted.
But Leonard's smirk did not falter. His father's life, the kingdom's safety, and his own satisfaction depended on this. And no witch, no shadowy conspirator, and no cursed forest would stand in his way.
For the first time in hours, he allowed himself a private thought: Let them try. Let them come. I'm ready for all of them.