The next afternoon, Van Draven pulled up in front of a quiet warehouse district on the outskirts of Green Haven.
The building looked abandoned from the outside. Broken windows. Faded paint. A flickering streetlight buzzing overhead.
But once they stepped inside, automatic lights blinked on, revealing a high-tech training facility hidden in plain sight. Reinforced walls, agility courses, weight gear, and even a holographic target range.
Kaelion stared around in disbelief. "This… is ours?"
Van Draven nodded. "Built it years ago. In case your powers awakened earlier than expected."
Kaelion swallowed hard. "I still don't understand what's happening to me."
"That's why we're here," his father replied. "So when danger comes, you won't freeze."
Lyra stepped forward, placing a hand on Kaelion's shoulder. "We know you're scared. But fear means you care about what's at stake."
Van Draven cracked his knuckles, his golden eyes faintly glowing. "Let's begin with control."
They started simple. Breathing exercises. Testing reflexes.
Kaelion tried to punch a training pad and accidentally knocked his dad back a few steps.
Kaelion panicked. "I didn't mean to!"
But instead of anger, Van Draven smiled. "Good. That means your strength is waking up."
Lyra brought over a small metal rod. "Bend this."
Kaelion hesitated, then wrapped his hands around it.
The metal groaned, twisting like soft clay.
His eyes widened in shock. "Whoa…"
"Focus," Van Draven reminded him. "Control without discipline is chaos."
Hours passed. Kaelion's claws emerged for the first time, then retracted when he calmed himself.
He learned to heighten his senses, track movement, and redirect his strength.
By evening, he was exhausted but filled with a new sense of purpose.
As they prepared to leave, Lyra hugged him tightly. "No matter what you are or what comes… you are our son first."
Kaelion nodded, breathing easier than he had in days.
Two nights later, rain whispered against the glass walls of Van Draven's study. The city beyond was drowned in silver fog. He stood by the window, phone pressed to his ear, voice low and tense.
"It's time," he said. "Old friend… I'm calling in the promise."
There was a long pause on the other end — then a deep, composed voice replied, "You've never called me unless the world was ending, Draven."
"Maybe it is," Van Draven said, eyes glowing faintly in the reflection. "If something happens to me or Lyra, he'll need someone who can move in shadows without belonging to them."
Hours later, a sleek black car rolled to a stop outside the house. From it stepped a man with pale silver hair, an elegant coat that trailed like smoke, and eyes the color of winter storms. His presence carried both calm and quiet danger.
Caspian Nightingale.
When the door opened, Kaelion froze. He had never felt a presence so old, yet so strangely gentle.
Van Draven clasped Caspian's hand firmly. "It's been too long."
"Five centuries and still you don't age a day," Caspian said with a wry smile. "You wolves are annoyingly handsome."
Lyra smirked faintly. "And you vampires are annoyingly dramatic."
They shared a moment of old camaraderie before Van Draven's tone grew serious. "Caspian, if I fall — if Lyra falls — the boy is yours to protect. He doesn't yet understand what he carries. But you will."
Caspian bowed his head slightly, his expression solemn. "I swore once that my debt to you would be eternal. Tonight, I renew it. I'll guard your son with my life."
Kaelion looked between them, confusion and unease twisting in his chest. "What's going on?"
Van Draven's gaze softened. "Just… insurance, son."
Caspian studied the boy quietly, then smiled faintly. "You have your father's fire. Let's hope you never need to use it."
Outside, lightning flashed across the sky — brief, sharp, and prophetic.
The world was shifting again, and the night had just gained a new guardian.
Kaelion couldn't sleep that night. He lingered by the window, the rain still falling softly outside, his thoughts tangled around the strange visitor downstairs.
Something about Caspian's presence unsettled him — not in fear, but in curiosity.
The man wasn't like the monsters his father spoke of in warnings. There was a strange calm about him, like someone who had walked through a thousand storms and survived them all.
The next morning, Kaelion overheard his parents speaking quietly in the living room.
Lyra's voice was low. "You're sure about him? A vampire to protect our son?"
Van Draven's tone carried conviction. "Caspian isn't like the others. He turned against his own kind centuries ago — he hunts the ones who prey on humans. That's why the vampire clans fear him."
Lyra frowned. "A vampire who hunts vampires. That's… unusual."
Caspian entered just then, his movements smooth as shadow. "Unusual," he said, finishing her sentence, "but necessary. There are those among us who have forgotten the old codes — restraint, secrecy, balance. I reminded them that immortality does not grant the right to cruelty."
Van Draven nodded with a faint smirk. "And you reminded them with a silver blade through the heart, if I recall."
Caspian's lips curved slightly. "Sometimes mercy comes sharp."
He turned his cold eyes toward Kaelion, who stood uncertainly by the staircase. "You see, boy, the monsters of this world aren't divided by species — they're divided by choice."
Kaelion felt something stir inside him at those words — a strange understanding, heavy and unshakable.
Lyra crossed her arms, studying Caspian carefully. "If you're here to protect him, then know this: if anything happens to my son, I'll hunt you myself."
Caspian chuckled softly. "Then it's settled. We protect him together."
The room fell into uneasy silence — a werewolf family and a vampire hunter bound by a fragile alliance.
Outside, the rain had stopped.
The streets gleamed under pale daylight, but for the first time in years, something darker than the clouds was moving toward Greenhaven.
Three nights later, Kaelion was walking home from a late study session when a strange chill crept through the air. The street was empty, but something in his instincts — something wild and ancient — whispered danger.
He glanced behind him.
Nothing.
But his heartbeat wouldn't settle. His senses sharpened the way they had in training — footsteps, distant breathing, the faint scrape of claws on pavement.
Then he saw them.
Six figures standing at the far end of the road. Some with glowing eyes. Others with fangs glinting under the streetlights. Not human. Not friendly.
Kaelion's breath trembled. If he ran toward home, he would lead them to his family. If he stood here, people in the neighborhood might die.
So he made a choice.
He walked the other direction, toward the abandoned industrial yard on the outskirts of town.
The hunters followed.
As soon as he reached the shadows of the deserted yard, they revealed themselves — three vampires, three werewolves, all armed and hungry for blood.
"So the stories are true," one vampire hissed. "The boy has awakened."
They lunged.
Kaelion fought back with everything he had. His claws sparked against concrete. His senses sharpened. He knocked one vampire through a fence and tackled a werewolf to the ground. For a moment, he felt powerful.
But experience was a cruel teacher.
They recovered quickly, surrounding him. One slammed him into a wall. Another pinned his arm. He gasped, dizzy as claws closed around his throat.
"You're strong," a werewolf growled, "but you're still just a boy."
Kaelion's vision blurred.
Then the wind changed.
A shadow moved.
And in less than a heartbeat, the attackers froze — eyes wide, as if something invisible had sliced through the night.
One by one, they collapsed to the ground, unconscious and defeated before they could even scream.
Caspian stepped into the moonlight, coat fluttering softly behind him, not a scratch on him. His voice was calm, but edged with ice.
"Six against one. Hardly honorable."
Kaelion stared, stunned. "You… took them out so fast I didn't even see you move."
"That's the idea," Caspian replied. "A hunter should never be seen until the moment it's too late."
He placed a steady hand on the boy's shoulder. "Come. Your parents will worry."
As they walked back through the silent streets, Kaelion looked at him in awe.
"Will I ever be that fast? That strong?"
Caspian gave a small smile. "Strength comes from blood. But skill… skill comes from scars you haven't earned yet."
Kaelion swallowed hard, feeling both humbled and inspired.
For the first time, he truly understood:
The enemy was real.
The hunt had begun.
And the night wasn't done with him.
By the time Kaelion and Caspian reached the house, Van Draven and Lyra were already waiting at the door. They could smell blood. They could smell fear.
Kaelion opened his mouth to explain, but Caspian spoke first.
"They found him," he said quietly. "A scouting unit. Six of them."
Van Draven's eyes darkened, gold flickering beneath the surface. "Is the boy hurt?"
"No," Caspian replied. "He fought well… for someone untrained. But this was only a taste."
Kaelion swallowed, guilt burning in his chest. "I tried to lead them away. I didn't want anyone else to get hurt."
Van Draven placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "You did the right thing."
But Caspian's voice was grave. "They weren't trying to kill him. Not tonight. They were testing him — his strength, his instincts, his limits. Which means they'll return with more."
"How many?" Lyra asked, already fearing the answer.
"A hundred more at least," Caspian said. "Maybe more. They now know the heir is real."
Silence cut through the room.
Van Draven turned to Kaelion. "Go to your room, son. We need to speak alone."
Kaelion hesitated, wanting to hear more, but one look at his father's eyes told him the conversation was not for him.
He went upstairs, every step heavy.
Downstairs, the air shifted. Van Draven locked the door behind him.
"So," he said quietly, "war has found us."
Caspian nodded. "And the enemy grows bold. Word is spreading beyond the clans. They believe you've grown weak. They think they can take your son."
Van Draven's jaw tightened. "Let them try."
Far away, in the shadowed depths of Blackthorn Fortress, a messenger knelt before Lord Noctarion and Damian.
"My lord," he said, voice trembling, "the reports are confirmed. Van Helsing is not alone. A vampire fights beside him — a powerful one."
Noctarion's expression soured, a cold fire burning in his eyes. "A traitor to his kind… how interesting."
Damian snarled, slamming his fist into the stone wall. "Does the boy have an army now?!"
"No," the messenger stammered. "Only one. But he dispatched our scouting unit as if they were flies."
The room fell silent.
Then Noctarion smiled — a thin, cruel smile.
"Then we send something bigger than flies."
He stood, cape sweeping the floor like spilled shadow.
"Call every brood. Every rogue wolf. Every creature desperate for blood and power."
Damian leaned forward, eyes glowing red.
"Should we invade Green Haven?"
Noctarion nodded slowly.
"Yes. We drown it."
Greenhaven was no longer Greenhaven.
Within days, fear spread faster than sunrise. Pets vanished. Livestock were found torn apart. People who walked alone after dark never made it home. The news called it wild animal attacks, but everyone in the Van Helsing house knew the truth.
This was a silent takeover.
Neighbors locked their doors. Streets emptied before sunset. Schools closed early.
The cheerful town that once smelled of bakeries and fresh leaves now smelled like smoke, panic, and blood.
Kaelion watched the news as reporters tried to explain the unexplainable.
"Authorities believe a pack of wild wolves has moved down from the mountains…"
But Kaelion heard the howls in the night.
Those were not wolves.
One evening, after another family disappeared, Van Draven stood in the darkness of the backyard, fists clenched, chest rising and falling with barely-controlled fury.
"This was my home," he growled. "My safe place for my son. And they poisoned it."
Lyra placed a hand on his arm. "Draven—"
But something in him snapped.
For hundreds of years, he had lived as legend. As ruler. As the Alpha of all Alphas. He had hidden himself for peace, but peace was dead.
So he let the beast out.
Van Draven tipped his head back and roared.
Not a normal roar. Not a wolf's howl. Something deeper. Older.
A sound that shook windows, rattled car alarms, and sent every creature of the night crashing to a halt.
Every werewolf froze, ears pinned, trembling.
Every vampire flinched, fangs bared in instinctive fear.
The roar echoed across Greenhaven like thunder tearing the sky apart. Even humans woke in terror, clutching their blankets without knowing why.
Silence followed.
A heavy, suffocating silence.
On rooftops, in alleys, in the dark corners where monsters hid, every supernatural turned their eyes toward one place:
The Van Helsing residence.
Kaelion stared at his father, stunned. He had never seen him like this—glowing eyes, claws extended, fur rippling beneath his skin, power rolling off him like a storm.
Caspian stepped forward, voice low.
"You've called them," he said. "Every one of them. They know where we are now."
Van Draven's eyes glowed brighter. "Good. I'm done running."
Far across town, Damian heard the roar and froze mid-stride. His heart stumbled. He knew that sound. Everyone did.
The King of Wolves had awakened.
And Lord Noctarion, standing beside him, smiled with cold amusement.
"So the mighty Van Helsing remembers who he is."
Damian growled. "He's challenging us."
"No," Noctarion replied, raising the Nightbane blade the way a conductor raises a baton before the symphony. "He's begging us to finish this."
The night held its breath.
Then the silence shattered.
Howls rose from every direction, echoing like a hundred storms. Windows blew open from the force of the sound. Streetlights flickered. Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed as the sky darkened with movement.
They were coming.
Caspian stepped beside Van Draven, blades hidden beneath his coat, voice calm. "You understand this is every wolf and vampire in Greenhaven."
"I know," Van Draven said. "That was the point."
Lyra's eyes glowed bright silver, her claws beginning to form. "They want our son. They will not pass us."
Kaelion stood behind them, heart pounding like a drum. "Dad… I'm ready."
Before Van Draven could answer, the first wave hit.
Wolves shot out of the darkness, leaping over fences, snarling with bloodlust. Vampires dropped from rooftops, claws gleaming. In seconds, the quiet neighborhood became a war zone.
Van Draven transformed fully — towering, golden-furred, a monstrous force of nature. He crashed into the attackers like a living earthquake, sending bodies flying through parked cars and stone walls. His roar split the night.
Lyra moved beside him, cutting through the enemy like silver lightning — fast, sharp, and fearless.
Caspian stood calm in the middle of the chaos. A vampire lunged toward him, fangs bared, only to stop mid-air — a silver blade protruding from his chest. Caspian hadn't even looked. He moved again, faster than sight, dropping vampire after vampire in silent, graceful motions.
Kaelion joined the fight, his instincts sharper than ever. He blocked a claw strike, knocked down a wolf twice his size, and used every lesson from training. For a moment, he felt unstoppable.
But more kept coming.
Dozens became hundreds.
The streets filled with fur and fangs and glittering eyes. The ground shook beneath the stampede. Houses shattered. Trees broke. Greenhaven was drowning.
A massive werewolf slammed Kaelion into the pavement, snarling. Kaelion struggled — claws scratching, muscles straining — but the beast was heavy, experienced, cruel.
Before it could crush him, Van Draven tore it away and hurled it into a wall so hard the bricks cracked.
"Stay close!" he roared.
But the horde pushed between them, cutting Kaelion off. He fought, breath ragged, surrounded on all sides.
Caspian appeared beside him in a burst of shadow. "Do not panic. Panic makes you prey."
Kaelion swallowed hard, forcing his body to move.
In the distance, a chilling laugh cut through the battlefield. Damian stepped forward, towering and armored with dark runes, eyes burning red.
"You should have stayed hidden, Van Helsing," he called. "Now your precious town will burn with you in it."
Van Draven growled, turning toward him. "Come then."
And with that, the true war began.