h4Chapter 376: His Son/h4

    Olivia’s POV

    Frederick’s sister rushed ahead with the maid, her steps quick and frantic. For a moment I stood frozen, torn between staying out of whatever madness was happening and letting my curiosity drag me in. But my wolf pushed at me, hard. Go.

    Before I could think twice, I followed them up the stairs. My heart pounded as I trailed them down the hall until they stopped abruptly at a tall door. Frederick’s sister didn’t hesitate. She shoved it open and stormed inside, her panic so obvious. I stepped in right after her, my eyes darting across the room.

    And then I saw him. A little boy, no more than four, sat calmly on the bed. His small hands were clutching the arm of a maid... and his mouth—

    My breath caught. Blood. He was drinking her blood. The maid was pale, her body trembling, but she was alive. Still conscious. Still breathing. But the boy—there was nothing ordinary about him. His eyes glowed faintly, his aura sharp and unsettling. I didn’t need anyone to tell me. Instinct screamed the truth.

    Frederick’s son. The one I’d only just heard about.

    The boy pulled back at once when Frederick’s sister rushed forward. Her voice was sharp, trembling with both fear and authority.

    "Felix! Stop this at once!"

    She grabbed him and yanked him away from the maid, her strength far greater than any human’s. The boy snarled—not like a scared child, but like a predator disturbed mid-hunt. His small face twisted, his eyes zing as he red at her with raw fury.

    For a moment, the room froze. The maid slumped against the wall, weak but alive. Frederick’s sister turned to the other servants who had rushed in behind her. "Take her," she ordered quickly, her voice full of concern. "Get her cleaned up and bandaged."

    The maids nodded hurriedly and carried the bleeding girl out of the room. My gaze stayed locked on the boy. He looked far too powerful, far tooposed to be a child of three—or even four. His energy felt ancient, terrifying, and my stomach twisted at the sight.

    Frederick’s sister held him firmly, but I could see it in her face as she looked at me: something wasn’t right. Something about this boy was... more.

    Before I could even find the words to speak, the door behind us mmed shut with a sharp crack. I spun around, and there he was—Frederick. His tall frame filled the doorway, his eyes cold and unreadable.

    For a second, the room went still. Even Felix froze, though his small chest still rose and fell in anger. Frederick’s gaze swept across the maid’s bloodied arm, his sister’s tense grip on the boy, and finallynded on me. His jaw clenched, and when he spoke, his voice was loud and full of rage.

    "I told the maids," he said slowly, each word sharp, "never to let a human near him."

    His eyes snapped to the sister, his anger intensifying. "And yet here we are."

    His sister swallowed hard in panic. "We are trying our best, brother... He just can’t control it, Frederick. He’s still a child—"

    "A child?" Frederick’s voice snapped like a whip, though he didn’t raise it. He stepped further into the room, his presence suffocating. "Look at him. Do you see a child?"

    My gaze flicked back to Felix. His small body trembled, but it wasn’t with fear—it was with hunger. His glowing eyes burned into his father’s, his lips still stained red. The power radiating from him made my stomach twist tighter. I swallowed hard, my wolf pressing against me, whispering the truth. "That boy... he’s dangerous."

    Frederick sharply turned his attention to the boy, his re fixed on him. "How many times have I told you, Felix? We do not feed by force. We are not savages."

    The boy’s small body shook—not from hunger this time, but from the weight of his father’s rage. His eyes flicked downward, though his lips still glistened red.

    Frederick’s voice cut through the silence again, sharper than before. "There is blood in the fridge. I allow you to drink once a week, and you know this. Once. Not more."

    Felix’s fists clenched on his little knees. His voice came out low, stubborn, and full of venom that didn’t sound like it belonged to a child.

    "I’m hungry. Normal food is disgusting. I hate it."

    Frederick’s jaw tightened, his aura pressing heavy against the walls. He stepped closer, towering over the boy, his voice rising.

    "Then you will learn to eat it."

    Felix’s head snapped up, his eyes zing. "No!" he shouted, his voice echoing like a growl. "I don’t want it!"

    The room stilled at his outburst, the power radiating off him unnatural for his age. My wolf bristled, unease crawling under my skin.

    But Frederick’s voice boomed, silencing even the air.

    "Enough!" His tone was final, leaving no room for argument. "You have broken my rule, and for that, your punishment is this—"

    He leaned down, his angry eyes piercing into his son’s. "For one month, you will eat only normal food. No blood. Not a drop. You will learn control, or I’ll kill you with my bare hands."

    The boy’s chest heaved, his little body trembling with fury. His teeth bared slightly, the predator in him desperate to rebel. But Frederick didn’t flinch. He only frowned.

    "Yes, we are vampires," he growled, "but we are not monsters."

    The boy’s small chest moved fast, up and down, like he was fighting to hold in all his anger. His glowing eyes turned away from Frederick andnded right on me. The way he looked at me made my stomach twist. No, I wasn’t afraid of him, but the way he stared— It wasn’t the gaze of a normal child. His little face was twisted with hate, as if I were the reason his father had punished him.

    My wolf whispered inside me, "He mes you. He already sees you as the enemy."

    I frowned, forcing myself to stay still. His eyes were too sharp, too scary for a boy his age. He was dangerous—just like his father.

    "Make sure the maid is taken care of," Frederick instructed his sister. Then his gaze shifted to me. "Come with me, Olivia. We have something to talk about."

    He didn’t shout, but I could tell it wasn’t a request. It was an order.

    I gave the boy onest nce—his tiny fists were clenched, his angry eyes still locked on me. Then I turned and followed Frederick out of the room.

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