Chapter 129: A Warning to All

The pungent smell of burnt hair filled the room and for a moment, no one in the den moved. Mouths hung open, eyes wide with disbelief at what they had just witnessed.

“No—no! Forgive me!” Kiera shrieked in panic as the last strands of her hair caught fire.

When Lucian finally released the vampiress’s neck, she stumbled away from him with a scream. Her hands moved to her burnt face and then frantically to the top of her head, only to freeze there in horror when her fingers found nothing but scorched skin.

Across the room, Orpheus tried to flee and as he rushed toward the doorway, the dark barrier that sealed the entrance remained intact. He searched for a handle, a doorknob but the black smoke had turned into a hardened wall.

Meanwhile, everyone in the room had grown eerily quiet.

When Lucian turned back towards the gathered vampires, unease and regret settled heavily among them. Many wished they had never come tonight.

“Lucian…” one of the vampiresses began cautiously, her voice betraying the unease in it. “Most of us had no part in this. Let those who did answer for it. The rest of us will leave.”

Lucian looked as though the answer bored him. He spoke,

“If you wanted to be uninvolved, you would have sent her away.” He bent slightly and lifted one of the iron stokers resting beside the fireplace. “Instead… you stayed to watch.”

“Surely you cannot mean to punish everyone here,” another vampire wore a strained smile. He gestured across the room and said, “Your quarrel lies with Orpheus, Bowen, and Alanna. They were the ones who wanted the girl.”

Bowen rolled his eyes, unimpressed and undeterred by Lucian’s words. He shrugged and said,

“Belmont is not your property, Slater. Until someone buys her, she belongs to whoever takes an interest. That is the rule for every groundling.”

Not wanting to face Lucian’s wrath, Alanna tried to reason by saying,

“Orpheus and Kiera did nothing unusual. It isn’t uncommon for elites to bring humans to their evenings.”

The iron stoker slowly scraped across the floor, sparks flickering where it caught against the stone as Lucian dragged it. He tilted his head and questioned,

“Who said she isn’t mine?”

At Lucian’s words, a shiver ran down Ruelle’s spine, settling low in her stomach with her cheeks beginning to burn as she sensed people’s eyes fall on her, which included her friend’s gaze.

Alanna felt a sharp pang of jealousy strike in her chest. If Lucian would not become hers, then there remained another way to settle the matter. She would simply buy the girl herself.

But then a faint trace of amusement touched Lucian’s expression, which didn’t quite reach his darkened eyes now. He remarked,

“You seem very confident for someone who tampered with my drink.” Alanna’s face immediately turned pale as everyone’s eyes shifted to her with a frown. “I didn’t think you were capable of disgracing yourself.”

A small round of murmurs filled the room, before people looked at Alanna in question.

“W–what? What are you talking about?” Alanna tried to feign innocence, but she struggled to lie under Lucian’s gaze. “I am—”

“Just because you are the lord’s son you think you can do whatever you want, Slater? We are vampires too,” Bowen mocked Lucian with a glare. “The girl will come with me!”

In one swift motion, Bowen seized the coffee table and threw it into the air. With a snarl, he went straight at Lucian and lunged forward behind the table.

When his fist came down like a hammer, Lucian stepped aside at the last second. The table crashed past him while Bowen’s blow struck the stone wall instead, cracking it.

Just as Bowen pulled his hand out and was ready to punch again, Lucian blocked it with the iron stoker. The next moment, Lucian caught hold of his peer and landed him right on the ground with dust lifting itself up from the ground.

“You fucker—!” Bowen bellowed, his voice vibrating through the room while Lucian sat just above him with the stoker embedded deep into the Halfling’s shoulder so that he wouldn’t move.

But it wasn’t because of the iron stoker that the Halfling was glaring. Lucian’s fingers dipped into Bowen’s side.

“I would have thought it obvious,” Lucian said quietly, his fingers digging deeper into Bowen’s flesh and the vampire growled, “that anything under my roof and under my protection is not to be touched?”

“Are you trying to kill me?” Bowen sneered, though he remained pinned beneath Lucian, pride still blazed in his eyes. “I didn’t realise you were this attached to the girl.” His lips curled. “Had I known, I would have bedded her long ago—”

Lucian’s eyes darkened instantly at the words. Flesh tore under his grip as his fingers forced their way between the ribs. A sickening crack was heard in the room when he seized one of the bones and wrenched it free. The rib tore loose in a spray of blood.

Bowen’s body violently jerked beneath Lucian and a raw, strangled cry ripped from his throat. A couple of gasps escaped from the lips of the spectators and some took a step back. Even the flames in the room flickered uneasily.

Lucian held the broken rib in his hand, blood dripping slowly from the jagged end.

Across the room, Ruelle felt her stomach twist as she had never seen violence like this before. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Earlier when Lucian had mentioned gathering people, she had expected mostly words and punches. The metallic scent of blood thickened in the air, making her throat tighten while her eyes remained fixed on the scene unfolding before her.

Her eyes briefly moved to the doors, where Orpheus and another vampire scrambled along the wall, desperately searching for a window to escape the horror unfolding behind them.

But the place was called a den for a reason. It had only one way to get in and out of here. Windows were never built into such places. They were meant to keep humans from escaping.

Bowen snarled through clenched teeth. He demanded, “You think this makes you untouchable? If not me, there are others.”

Despite the blood pouring from his side, he forced his arm upward, aiming a strike straight for Lucian’s throat.

But Lucian did not move away. The moment Bowen’s hand came forward, Lucian drove the broken rib straight through Bowen’s palm. A painful grunt escaped Bowen’s lips as the bone pinned his hand to the floor.

“Then you will serve as the example,” Lucian replied. His hand slipped back into Bowen’s side. A choked roar tore from the Halfling as Lucian gripped the next rib and forced it loose. “Still eager to touch what isn’t yours?”

Bowen gritted his teeth while he tried to rise and succeeded in pulling his hand free. Blood had begun to spill too much from his body, and while the rest of them panicked at the madness, Lucian seemed unfazed.

“You insane bastard—!” Bowen growled in pain.

“You smell of cigars, Bowen,” Lucian stated. “Did you blow smoke on her?”

“He did right on her face!” One of the vampires spoke up quickly, eager to distance himself from Bowen.

Lucian’s blood-stained hand came to rest against Bowen’s neck before the latter could turn and glare at the vampire who spoke just now.

“D–Don’t you dare, Lucian—” Bowen’s words faltered in dread as he couldn’t move his head.

Lucian regarded the weakened Halfling under him before he called. “Orpheus.”

Orpheus, who had been standing near the door, stiffened before slowly turning toward Lucian, who ordered, “Come here.”

When Orpheus reached them, Lucian finally rose and stepped aside, leaving Bowen on the floor.

Everyone in the room waited with bated breath when Orpheus asked, “Should I take senior Bowen back to Sexton?” He was more than happy to leave the place and be out of sight.

When the younger vampire turned to Lucian, the pureblooded vampire was still staring at the person on the ground when he heard, “Break his fangs.”

Orpheus’ eyes nearly bulged from his sockets. He asked unsurely, “Defang him?”

“Yes,” Lucian replied simply. His gaze shifted across the room to where Ruelle stood, a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead. He added, “The sooner the better. Unless you would prefer a demonstration on yourself.”

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