~~~
.
.
.
The morning red sun stretched lazily over the marble spires of Ares' palace, gilding the sky in pale gold. The air outside was brisk, laced with the faint scent of metal and ash left behind by the passing storm. Inside the vast corridors, servants scurried about preparing for the royal departure to the Moon Vale.
Hazel stood before a full-length mirror, her breath catching as she stared at her reflection. Her attire, though designed for travel, was anything but plain. A fitted dark crimson corset hugged her slender waist, accentuating the natural curve of her figure. The fabric shimmered faintly like embers when the light hit it, paired with sleek black leather pants that tucked neatly into knee-high boots embossed with feathers in gold. A light hooded cloak draped over her shoulders, the inner lining blood red and the outer black as midnight.
Her silver hair cascaded in soft curly waves, and when she pulled the hood slightly back, the strands gleamed with a luminescent glow — faint, almost divine. Her eyes, that unusual shade between silver and amber, seemed to glow of their own accord. She didn't look human. She looked like a queen forged in flame and sorrow — dangerous and breathtakingly beautiful.
When Hades entered the chamber, even he paused. The Demon King, the ruler of shadows, looked momentarily mortal as his gaze trailed over her. The sight of her rendered him speechless — the faint smirk that curved her lips, the fire in her eyes that mirrored his own.
Ares entered soon after, dressed in a deep navy coat trimmed with silver, his hair tied loosely behind his head. His vampire skin caught the faint light of the torches, giving him an almost ethereal gleam. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Hazel.
"My gods…" Ares murmured under his breath. "You could start wars just by walking into a room."
Hades' glare could have shattered stone. "Careful, Ares," he warned, his voice deep and deceptively calm.
Ares smirked but bowed slightly toward Hazel. "My apologies, Your Grace. You look… radiant. Almost unreal."
Hazel offered a polite nod, though her cheeks colored faintly. She could feel Hades' possessive gaze burning into her skin.
When they finally set out, the royal carriages rolled through the cobbled courtyard. Hades' elite guards — Artemis, Stefan, and Matthew — rode alongside, their armor gleaming darkly in the morning light. The journey to Moon Vale would take them two days.
Inside the carriage, Hazel sat between the two kings, an arrangement that already made her pulse race with discomfort. The atmosphere was thick — tension and unspoken rivalry hanging between Hades and Ares like smoke.
"So," Ares began, his voice teasing, "Moon Vale. Land of the wolves. I wonder if Lycan will welcome us with open arms or bare fangs."
"Depends on whether he can control himself in my wife's presence," Hades replied dryly.
Ares chuckled, leaning back. "You make it sound like she's a weapon."
"She is," Hades said simply, eyes flickering toward Hazel with quiet admiration. "One that doesn't even realize her beauty draws in strays."
Hazel pretended to look out the window, but she felt her heart flutter at his words.
"Tell me, Queen Hazel," Ares continued, his tone softer now, "does it bother you? To be the cause of so much tension?"
She met his gaze briefly. "I didn't ask for it. But I won't apologize for existing either. It's not my fault the kings of the regions all have feelings for me."
Ares smiled faintly. "Spoken like a true queen."
Hades' hand found hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in silent claim. The air inside the carriage grew hotter. Hazel looked between them — one a king of darkness and fury, the other of charm and blood. The banter that followed only deepened the tension until the Citadel's towering spires faded behind them.
Far across the lands, beyond the obsidian cliffs and into the wastelands that bordered the Citadel, shadows moved.
Amon stood before a gathering of rogues — vampires, demons, and forsaken witches, all shrouded in darkness. His scarred face gleamed under the dull moonlight, and his single crimson eye burned with vengeance.
"The King is gone," he said, his voice rough like crushed stone. "The Citadel lies unguarded. The perfect time to remind the underworld who truly commands fear."
The rogues howled in approval, the air crackling with malicious energy.
Velia's words echoed in his head — "Burn it down."
And Amon would do just that.
He raised his sword, the blade forged from cursed steel, and pointed it toward the horizon. "Leave none alive. Make the walls bleed."
Then, with a flick of his wrist, the army surged forward.
The Citadel, once calm and proud, erupted into chaos.
The first wave hit like a storm — screams, explosions, the clash of steel on steel. Flames erupted across the lower districts as vampires and rogue demons tore through the city. The guards were caught off guard, and one stumbled into the throne corridor, clutching his chest wound, blood spilling freely.
"Under… under attack!" he choked, collapsing before Artemis and Luke could reach him.
Artemis' jaw tightened. "How many?"
"Too many," the dying guard whispered before his eyes went dim.
"Finally," Stefan said, drawing his blade with a sharp metallic hiss, his usual calm replaced by a wicked grin. "Some action."
Luke smirked faintly. "Try not to destroy the castle walls this time."
The elites raced out — their dark cloaks trailing, blades drawn, demonic aura rippling through the air like a tide of death.
When they arrived, blood already painted the courtyard. Amon stood in the center like a grim conductor of chaos, his sword glinting red, his grin wide.
"Ah, the King's pets," Amon taunted. "How loyal. How… expendable."
Stefan stepped forward, his sword ready. "Who are you?"
"Amon," he said, grinning as his fangs flashed. "The one who will tear down everything your precious King built."
Then he lunged.
Their swords clashed with a deafening ring. Sparks flew as demonic power collided with vampiric speed. Amon's movements were feral, unpredictable — his eyes wild with bloodlust.
Stefan parried, ducked, spun — his movements precise, every strike fueled by silent fury. But Amon was faster, stronger, his strikes brutal. With one savage swing, Amon shattered Stefan's sword in half.
Stefan stumbled back, chest heaving. "I underestimated you," he growled.
"And you'll die regretting it."
Amon lunged again, but this time Stefan caught his sword mid-swing, eyes darkening — black with faint purple flames swirling within. His claws extended, gleaming in the light of the burning courtyard and then he shattered Amon's sword with his hands.
"You made a mistake too," Stefan said quietly. "You underestimated me."
They crashed together again, claws and fists flying. The ground shook under their blows. Amon slashed Stefan's shoulder open, but the demon barely flinched, his aura bursting outward like a storm.
"Fuck!" He cursed, noticing the surge of power and strength in the king's pet.
Suddenly, Amon's attention flicked — a faint scent of human blood caught his nose. He turned sharply to see Miriam, helping a child out of a burning place.
Before Stefan could react, Amon vanished in a blur and reappeared behind her, his arm wrapping around her throat, his fangs grazing her skin.
"Let her go!" Stefan roared, tearing through rogues that lunged at him. There was no way he was going to let Amon hurt her, he couldn't let that happen.
Amon sank his fangs in. Miriam screamed, the sound slicing through the chaos.
And then — silence.
Every rogue froze. The air shimmered. Stefan stood still, his head bowed slightly. When he looked up, his eyes were pure black, streaked with violet fire. His aura tore through the courtyard like a wave of death.
The next second, every rogue surrounding him was sliced into ribbons — bodies falling, blood spraying, the air thick with the metallic scent of death, he had conjured up blades of threads and wrapped it around, slicing the intruders into pieces.
"Impossible..." Amon hissed as Stefan's power tore through the air. If he was this strong, just how powerful was the King.
Amon barely had time to turn when Stefan appeared behind him, grabbed his arm, and hurled him into the air. He jumped, so high above the Citadel's tallest building and kicked Amon, the impact when Amon hit the ground cracked stone, leaving a huge ditch on the ground.
Stefan landed a second later, his claws dripping blood, his face shadowed, monstrous.
"Monster," Amon gasped, blood escaping his mouth, due to the broken bones in his body.
That moment the ever so preserved neat freak Stefan indeed looked like a monster. His hair, always so neatly styled were now disheveled and fell over his face. His clothes were all tattered and his face bloodied.
Stefan smiled faintly. "You have no idea."
He plunged his hand straight through Amon's chest and tore out his heart.
Amon's body fell lifelessly to the ground, the faint flicker of firelight dancing over his corpse as he disintegrated.
.
.
.
MEANWHILE
Far away, Hazel stirred in the carriage. Her body tensed, her eyes snapping open as her chest tightened.
"Hazel?" Hades called out, noticing her sudden stiffness.
She didn't answer. Her vision blurred — her mind reaching out instinctively, brushing against something.
Blood. Fire. Screams. Death.
Her lips trembled. "The Citadel…"
"What?" Hades leaned closer, but she gripped his arm, her eyes still closed.
"They're under attack," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can feel it."
Her breath came faster as she saw flashes — Stefan drenched in blood, Miriam unconscious and the Citadel burning.
"How do you know this?" Ares asked, unsure. He stared at her with curiosity etched on his face.
She looked like she was asleep but she was sweating profusely and her brows furrowed a lot.
"Turn the Carriage around!" Hades said undoubtedly.
"We're already at Moon vale's border. Going back will be for nothing, especially if what Hazel saw was nothing but a dream." Ares said.
Ares was right, the distance was already too much and they were already at Lycan's doorstep. But he could feel it too, that something wasn't right.
The door to their carriage opened. Darius and Luke came forth. "We overheard the Queen consort words. If the Citadel's under attack am sure Stefan and the boys could handle it," Luke stated.
"But we'll go back and check it out, just in case," Darius said.
"When you do get back, if there's anything wrong, send me a message and I'll be right there." Hades said with gritted teeth.
"If this was indeed an attack, whoever had the guts to invade my domain should prepare for something worse than death." Hades said, his face remained stoic but his words carried weight.
"Go!" He commanded and his men got out, mounting their horses and rode away.