Chapter 12
DARIAN
Exhausted didn’t even cut it. I hadn’t slept properly in days—not since that damn council meeting. Travelling all the way to Zyphora to meet Fenris about the missing supes—witches included, had been a waste of time, energy and patience.
The man was a fool. All bark and no answers.
How he was running an entire realm was beyond me. A werewolf shifter with more brawn than brains. Tactical sense of a rock. The leadership instincts of a rabid dog.
Zyphora was one of the largest realms, home to countless shifter species, each carving out its own territory based on its nature.
The werewolf shifters resided deep within the heart of the wilderness, where towering evergreens stretched toward the sky.
Jagged mountains loomed in the distance, and their peaks were dusted with snow even in the warmer seasons.
Rivers cut through the land like veins, their icy waters reflecting the moonlight—the perfect backdrop for the wolves to run, hunt and lose themselves to their primal instincts.
Since the disappearances started, I had locked my sister down. But Drew? He couldn’t sit still, and he had a job, but that’s beside the point.
He was always out, either picking fights or chasing women or men. I didn’t judge the way he lived his life so long as he was safe. Daleyza refused to leave her twin alone in case he got himself into some serious trouble, and that always ended with her being caught up in it.
She was also being bullied, even though she is twenty-one, it still happens.
I should’ve killed the bastards who touched her, who made her life hell.
The only reason I didn’t was because she’d never forgive me—and I’d rather bleed than lose her trust. My sisters been an easy target her whole damn life.
Mute, so the witches think she’s useless, not like she’s a witch anyway.
Some families are full of witches, deeming them powerful, then some can have children with no powers at all, like us three.
I became a hunter, though.
My sister and brother were everything to me. Since the day our parents died and they were left in my care, I have done everything to keep them safe. Even if it costs me sleep, blood and more sanity than I had to spare.
At least now, I’ve got Ronan and Kieran in my corner. Not that I’d say it out loud, but I need them. Especially with Vespera yanking my leash every time she has some crisis or needs something handled.
I don’t get a choice. None of us does. One wrong move, one refusal, and she could wipe us out of existence without a second thought.
Following her isn’t about loyalty—it's survival. I do as I’m told because I want to protect this realm from the vampires and whatever else crawls out of the shadows.
It is my duty until the day I take my very last breath.
That’s all I am, a hunter.
A weapon.
Velmore, for all its flaws, is still a sight to behold. Most of it at least.
The skies are never just blue—they shift with the sun, painting the horizon in rich violets, deep oranges, and gold. Rainbow-coloured flowers bloom year-round, weaving through the cobbled streets and sprawling courtyards. Magic lingers in the air, humming beneath the surface like an unseen pulse.
It’s a place of beauty and power.
Except for the council’s domain in Astrithal. The towering building, fused with Vesperas' magic, casts a long shadow over the city. The Hollowborns live on the other side of the realm, opposite the Whispering Woods.
The Hollowborns is the district where lower-level or magicless witches live; they are just cast aside and forgotten.
It’s bleak, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and burning wood.
The buildings are old, their walls worn and cracked, but for all its gloom, it’s the liveliest part of Velmore.
They refuse to be swallowed by misery. They find ways to live—music echoing through the streets, bonfires crackling in the night, laughter spilling from hidden courtyards.
They create their happiness, no matter how much the world tries to take from them.
I respect that.
At the meeting in Zyphora, we tried to piece together who King Draeven was hunting. Years ago, we heard that he lost someone or something he needed for reasons unknown.
Doesn’t matter now because they were slaughtered years ago, but with the way people are disappearing again, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s trying to repeat the past.
That bastard has always been sick in the head. The things he did to those witches—to every single one —to play God. He tortured them, experimented, all to try and create some twisted new species so he could wipe out the other realms and take over.
All for power. That’s what it always came down to in the end.
Power.
King Draeven will destroy everything in his path to get it. I will kill him for what he did and for everything he’s done to so many of us.
Stepping into my apartment, I was met with silence, and for once, I relished it. No counsel orders, no battles, no endless demands.
Just a moment to breathe.
I had enough time to shower and have a quick bite before I had to head to the whispering woods with the other two.
The woods stretched for miles, dense and foreboding, the name well earned. The trees whispered with voices that weren’t the wind, shadows moved where no light touched, and the creatures that lurked within weren’t familiars—they were wild, untamed, and most weren’t fond of intruders.
Most people knew better than to set a single foot inside.
For weeks now, something had been pulling me toward the woods. An invisible thread, constant and unrelenting. I’d found myself at the edge more times than I cared to admit, staring into the endless darkness.
Shaking off the thought, I stripped in the bathroom and stepped under the scalding shower, pulling out my hair tie. Heat seeped into my sore muscles, forcing the tension from my shoulders, but it wasn’t enough to wash everything away.
Layers of dirt and dried blood swirled down the drain—leftovers from a long night of hunting down the vampires lurking where they shouldn’t be.
I reached for my bodywash, only to stop dead in my tracks. The familiar sandalwood scent was gone, replaced by something… sickeningly sweet.
Cherry and vanilla.
Fucking Ronan.
“That asshole,” I grumbled, glaring at the damn bottle like it personally wronged me.
I dropped a dollop of the sickly sweet bodywash into my palm and scrubbed it over my skin, forcing myself to breathe in the scent. Despite how much I hated it, the damn thing didn’t smell that bad. But it didn’t matter—this was about principle.
A loud bang on the bathroom door pulled me out of my thoughts.
“Hey, Dar, I’m heading out for a bit. Daleyza is in her room,” Drew called.
Not on my watch.
I shut the water, snatched a towel, and wrapped it around my hips before pulling the door open—hard enough to rattle the frame. Before he could take another step toward the front door, my hand shot out, gripping him like iron, my fingers digging in with a bruising pressure he wouldn’t forget.
Damn, I can’t control my strength.
My brother and sister might be twins, but Drew looked more like me than Daleyza.
Same ash-blonde hair, though his was cropped shorter, and same hazel-green eyes.
He was shorter than my six-foot-two frame, leaner, with less muscle—because unlike me, he never trained. He didn’t want to become a hunter.
He didn’t want this life, and I don’t blame him. It can be lonely, as Hunters, when we train, we are away from our family for a long time, and the choice to have children is taken away from us.
We are basically soldiers, dedicated to protecting the realm, especially those of us higher up the chain, carrying the weight no one else can.
I signed up because I hated the bastards who tore my parents from me.
Because if I couldn’t save them, then I sure as hell was going to protect the family I had left.
Relationships aren’t allowed either; we must stay loyal and focused, being a Veilguard.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I said. “You’re staying here. With her.”
Drew jerked his arm from my grip, scoffing. “I love her, but I have a life, Darian.”
He turned for the door. I moved faster.
The door slammed shut with a crack that echoed through the hallway. The frame trembled.
I stepped in close, lowering my voice. “You won’t have a life if something happens to her.”
His eyes widened, but I didn’t stop.
“None of us is here tonight. We have to stay in the Whispering Woods till we have searched the whole place. That means you’re it. I don’t care what plans you had. You’re staying. End of discussion.”
Drew's jaw clenched, but I saw the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. He knew better than to push me.
“You’re a dick,” He muttered, and honestly, he wasn’t wrong.
“Not the worst thing I’ve been called,” I said, stepping away from the door and giving him room to breathe.
He lingered there, throwing a look toward Daleyzas' room, then back at me, clearly debating if I’d break his legs for walking out.
“Fine,” he huffed. “I’ll stay. But seriously, I can’t keep playing stay-at-home brother. I’m twenty-two, Darian. I have a life—or at least I’m supposed to. I love her, obviously, but a guy's got needs, you know?”
I knew exactly what he meant.
“You’ll live,” I said dryly, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth.
He grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and dropped onto the couch like he owned it—boots and all, right on the table. My eye twitched.
Don’t kill him.
“You know, you can smile. I won’t tell the wicked witch you’ve got emotions.”
I tipped my head back with a short laugh, the fight draining out of me, too damn tired to argue.
Still in my towel, I dropped onto the couch beside him, letting my head fall back against the cushion.