Chapter 120: Different Marks
Apart from purebred vampires maintaining their lineage through close relatives, most vampires can choose to mark their partners, whether they are human or vampires. Werewolves can also mark their partners, but they lack the choice; their mates are mostly destined.
Once marked, whether by a vampire or a werewolf, a soul bond is formed, allowing them to mate and produce offspring.
But what happened between Azrael marking Sadie?
This also determined what Hazel should do.
“Queen, you should know that King Azrael and that she-wolf, they are true mates. When he brought that she-wolf named Sadie back to Bran Castle, I knew things would get complicated.”
Azrael and Sadie fell deeply in love. Azrael desired to possess Sadie completely. However, Sadie was already marked by an alpha wolf. Her neck bore a mark that infuriated Azrael. He tried everything to remove it, but to no avail.
Finally, Azrael couldn’t resist biting Sadie. To his surprise, her wolf mark vanished, replaced by Azrael’s mark-her true mate.
“Your mother and your biological father were true loves. They yearned for each other, and that’s how you came to be.”
Claud gazed at Hazel’s mark, his eyes shimmering.
On Hazel’s neck, Cyril’s mark and Hawthorne’s mark overlapped, indistinguishable.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.
This indicated Hazel’s inner uncertainty about who her true mate was.
“How can you be so sure?”
“The power of a Hybrid explains everything. They resemble both vampires and werewolves. But their inclination toward one species’ power reflects the genetic traits of their father. Like you, craving blood more than food. However, Hybrids with a wolf soul often crave food but show no reaction to blood.”
“I don’t have that problem. I even have my own wolf, Rita, and the powers of a witch.”
“That’s your uniqueness, Hazel. You inherited the invisible genes from your mother, who was an ordinary Hybrid. She wasn’t even a pure werewolf.” Claud squinted at Hazel.
“But, my child, you’re a bit wavering. Look at your mark.”
Cyril looked at Hazel, his eyes showing a hint of complexity. He feared Hazel might waver.
“I don’t know why this damn vampire mark still exists, making me feel Hawthorne often. But I must admit I have no feelings for him.”
Hazel’s eyes turned to Cyril, filled with sincerity. She knew her destiny was true love. But influenced by the mark, she was occasionally swayed by Hawthorne, and there must be some secrets within.
As a vampire formed through shifting, Claud didn’t fully understand vampire marks. He only saw Azrael’s experience as the whole picture.
“What do you want by coming here?” Cyril’s gaze shifted to Claud, sensing something different about this vampire but not in a friendly way.
Claud thought of Lilith, being the mate of the progenitor vampire, she might know more. However, whether she would help Hazel was uncertain. Lilith’s temperament was eccentric, and her assistance to vampires had ambiguous motives, especially her clear support for Hawthorne’s faction.
“Do you know what’s most interesting in this city?”
“What?”
“Human blood.”
“We thrive on watching humans kill each other. Their blood becomes our sustenance, and their mental state stimulates the bloodlust in vampires and werewolves. But here’s something special: Do you remember your companions, Alpha Cyril?”
Claud referred to Elmer, Parrish, Rankin, and Viola, who were split up in four directions.
“They were caught in the underground fight club, and soon we’ll enjoy watching them battle out with rogue humans or Hybrids.”
“You dare-” Cyril’s anger peaked, his attention focused on chasing Hazel completely diverted.
“Claud, those are my comrades. Why are you doing this?” Hazel also looked at Claud discontentedly.
“My Queen, it seems you’ve forgotten my position. No vampire will sympathize with a wolf.”
Although Claud’s goal was not merely to let these wolves die, he wanted to use Hazel to crush Hawthorne’s faction.
“But I’m more than willing to lead you to participate in the club’s fighting matches. Even if they aren’t your companions, they are still worth placing bets on.”
Claud sneered contemptuously, as if describing an ordinary basketball game.
Cyril grabbed his collar, his anger reaching its peak as if he would tear Claud apart. However, he calmed down; he knew he had to find the whereabouts of his companions.
Cyril reluctantly pushed Claud away, ordering him to quickly take them to the underground fight club.
Claud, seeing them falling into his trap, arranged for a car.
The three got into the car, traversing the crowded Darkmoon City center. The area the vehicle passed was filled with skyscrapers. As night fell, the entire city was adorned with colorful lights. Tourists and residents walked on the sidewalks, surrounded by the aroma of alcohol and various food smells.
After parking, they walked into a dim, abandoned factory.
A burly figure stood at the entrance. Claud muttered a few words to him. The group followed him down the factory stairs, arriving at a noisy club. The club was vibrant, with the floor vibrating slightly due to the loud music. The entire club was immersed in glaring red lights.
The interior of the club was lively, in stark contrast to the desolation outside the factory. The club was filled with tables, chairs, and booths, with a striking arena in the middle. The arena was surrounded by high stone walls, distinctly different from the clamor inside the club.
“What do you need?” asked a pale-faced bartender.
“A Bloody Mary,” Claud said. After hearing his order, the bartender’s eyes widened slightly. He smiled and opened a stone door under the arena.
Claud seemed to understand the language here, finishing the Bloody Mary in one go. His lips bore a satisfied, blood-red tint as he licked them.
Cyril, judging from the scent, discerned a hint of fresh human blood in that drink. Considering its freshness, it was likely from an adult male. Although werewolves didn’t prefer human blood, the bloody aroma stirred Cyril’s blood, arousing his bloodlust.
Cyril’s golden eyes flickered, as if foreseeing what would unfold in the underground fight club.