CHAPTER 364: BELLY OF THE BEAST

Vincent/Vaelthor~

The walls seemed to inch closer with every breath I took, the carved wood panels pressing down like silent judges, their polished scent mingling with the suffocating weight of unspoken truths. My chest burned with every heartbeat, each thud hammering against my ribs as if trying to break free, to claw its way out of the storm that was my mind.

"Uh... Uncle Zane’s a good man? A wonderful king? Why, what’s up?" Nick’s words didn’t just linger; they shackled me, heavy chains tightening around my throat until even breathing felt like defiance.

Across from me, Winter’s composure—usually ironclad, cold as steel—fractured like glass struck too hard. Her eyes, wide and glistening, betrayed the fortress she built around herself. Her lips parted, trembling as though the truth itself had robbed her of speech. I had never seen her this undone. And it terrified me.

Was he talking about King Zane? The King Zane? The one Winter and I left the underworld to come and kill? That King Zane?!

My mate. The word itself now tasted like ash on my tongue. Mate, bound by fate... was the daughter of the very monsters who’d gutted our world. Monsters who had driven their claws into Kalmia’s chest, ending her life without mercy. Monsters who had dragged our father, Shadow, into darkness eternal, shackled in chains not even the gods who created them could break.

No. It couldn’t be. It was a nightmare dressed as truth, a cruel cosmic joke waiting for me to laugh it off. But no laughter came. Only silence.

And in that silence, the shadows stirred. They knew better. They always did. They whispered along my skin, crawled in my veins, coiling tighter with every heartbeat. They didn’t want me to believe. They wanted me to fight, to lash out, to burn it all down before the truth could claim me.

Strike. Flee. Do something.

But all I could do was stand there, caught between the weight of history and the unbearable pull of destiny, knowing that whichever choice I made, nothing—absolutely nothing—would ever be the same again.

I forced myself to breathe, steadying the tremor in my hands. Panic wouldn’t help. I needed answers, but I couldn’t let it show—not the rage, not the fear. For all we knew, Nicholas could be talking about another Zane.

Charm them. Disarm them. That’s what I did best. I turned to Katrina, my voice casual, laced with that dangerous allure I’d honed over years of survival. "Hey, Kat... that was something, huh? Your folks offering us a place to stay. Getting a room of our own sounds pretty fancy. I never thought Winter and I would ever come to this point. But, uh, I gotta admit, I’m a bit out of the loop on all this. Who’s this Uncle Zane Nick’s talking about? Does he mean your Dad? Is he a king or something?"

Katrina blinked, her blue eyes still shimmering with the remnants of her earlier tears, that reddish-blonde hair catching the light like a halo she didn’t know she wore. She was so open, so unguarded—it twisted something in my chest, a mix of guilt and that infuriating pull toward her. The mate bond hummed between us, warm and insistent, making it hard to think straight. She tilted her head, a small smile breaking through, though her impulsiveness shone in the way she leaned in, eager to share. "Oh, Vincent, you’re sweet for asking. Yeah, my dad’s King Zane—the Lycan King, ruler of all werewolves. And Mom’s Queen Natalie, but everyone calls her the Celestial Princess because of her heritage. She’s a goddess and she got this incredible light magic, you know? They rule this whole kingdom together. It’s why we live in the palace. It’s huge—gardens, towers, everything. But don’t worry, it’s not as stuffy as it sounds." She laughed lightly, but there was a flicker in her eyes.

"You’re going to love it here, I promise. Dad’s tough, but he’s fair. And Mom... she’s the heart of it all. They are both lovely people."

Her words hit like a dagger to the gut, twisting deep. King Zane. Queen Natalie. The names I’d cursed in the dead of night, the faces I’d imagined a thousand times as I plotted revenge. My vision blurred for a second, shadows flickering at the edges despite the cloak spell hiding our demonic essence. I swallowed hard, forcing a nod, my charming smile plastered on like armor. "Wow... that’s... impressive. A king and a queen. No wonder you carry yourself like royalty, Kat." Inside, the storm raged—vengeance screaming against the blooming love that made my heart ache for her touch. How could the universe be this cruel? To bind me to the daughter of my mother’s killers?

Winter, ever the enigma, stepped in smoothly, her voice cool and measured, but I caught the subtle tremble in her hands, hidden behind her back. She turned to Nicholas, her blue eyes locking onto his with that vengeful intensity she usually buried deep. But there was something else there— a vulnerability she only let slip around me, now cracking open in the face of this nightmare. "And you, Nicholas? You called him Uncle Zane. What’s your story? Your parents must be connected to all this grandeur too, right?" She phrased it lightly, almost teasing, but I knew her better. It was a probe, sharp as a blade.

Nick leaned back against the wall, that brooding cockiness surfacing in his smirk, black hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly magnetic, his dark eyes gleaming with that vampire charm. He crossed his arms, glancing at Winter with a mix of amusement and something softer— that hidden tenderness peeking through. "Ah, curious about the family tree, huh? Fair enough. My dad’s Sebastian Lawrence, Master of the Crimson Black Coven—the biggest vampire coven around. Rules with an iron fist, but he’s got a soft spot for his allies and lastly, he’s the best friend of uncle Zane. They have known each other for many years. And Mom? Cassandra Lawrence. She’s a werewolf warrior, infamous back in the day as the Vampire Slayer. Yeah, ironic, right? She used to hunt vamps like Dad, but now she’s the Mistress of the coven. They’re a power couple, just like Uncle Zane and Aunt Natalie. Our parents love each other very much. Grew up hearing stories about their battles." He chuckled, low and throaty, but his eyes lingered on Winter, as if sensing the storm brewing beneath her calm. "Why the interest? Planning a family reunion already?"

The room tilted. Sebastian and Cassandra—the allies who’d helped Zane and Natalie destroy our family. My legs buckled, knees weakening like they’d been kicked out from under me. I grabbed the edge of a nearby table to steady myself, the wood cool under my fingers, but it did nothing to ground the whirlwind in my head. Winter swayed too, her face paling beneath that cold exterior, her breath hitching in a way only I would notice. Our mates... born from the blood of our enemies. The people who’d slaughtered our demoness mother and imprisoned our father, the god of darkness, forever. How? Why? The mate bond, that cursed thread, pulsed stronger now, mocking us with its unbreakable hold.

I reached out through our mind link, the private channel only siblings like us could share, my thoughts frantic but shielded from the others. "Winter, this is bad. Worse than bad. This palace... it’s their den. The belly of the beast. We walked right into it, thinking it was just some random encounter. This isn’t how we planned to infiltrate—sneaking in shadows, striking from the dark. We were thrown here like bait."

Her response came back, sharp and laced with that fear she only showed me, her mental voice trembling. "I know, Vincent. Gods, I know. My heart’s pounding out of my chest. But what now?"

I glanced at her, our eyes meeting in that silent understanding. "Did that witch Nancy know? When she tossed us into that alley to "meet our fates," did she see this coming? Was it a trap? We have to get out. Find a way, any way. Slip away before they unravel our cloak."

Winter’s gaze hardened, but the vulnerability lingered in her mind link. "Even if we bolt, the bond won’t let us, remember? You feel it too—the pull to Katrina, mine to Nicholas. It’s like chains around our souls. We leave, and it’ll tear us apart from the inside. Vengeance or not, we’re stuck."

I was at a loss, the calculating part of me fracturing under the weight. Stuck in the palace of our sworn enemies, pretending to be grateful orphans while the shadows screamed for blood. The irony burned—revenge so close, yet poisoned by love. My chest tightened, emotions crashing like waves: rage at the betrayal of fate, terror at being exposed, and that damnable affection for Katrina, her light piercing my darkness in ways I never wanted.

The door creaked open then, slicing through the charged silence like a knife. Natalie stepped back in, her red hair flowing like liquid fire, that polished smile curving her lips—but it was fake, guarded, not reaching her eyes. Those eyes scanned the room, appraising us with that careful calculation I’d spotted earlier. "Vincent, Winter," she said smoothly, her voice kind on the surface but laced with an undercurrent of steel. "Your rooms are ready. I’ve prepared something comfortable for you both—close to Katrina and Nicholas, of course. Follow me, and we’ll get you settled."

I forced a nod, my charming mask slipping back into place, though my heart raced with the thrill of danger. "Thank you, Natalie. That’s more than we deserve." But inside, the shadows writhed, whispering warnings. Was this hospitality... or a cage?

As we trailed after her, the palace halls stretching out like a labyrinth of luxury and lies, I exchanged one last glance with Winter. We were in deep now—trapped in the heart of the enemy, with love and vengeance warring in our blood. And escape? It felt like a distant dream.