Marry to Alpha or Vampire?

Darkmoon City, located in the southern part of the Northern Continent, is the first city at the border of the northern and southern continents. It originated from Hohensalzburg Castle, a small village in the river that separates the northern and southern continents. During the period controlled by the Magic Association, it belonged to the territory of the Blue Robe faction witches. Power struggles allowed the Black Robe wizards to take advantage, ultimately causing Hohensalzburg Castle to fall completely and transform into Darkmoon City. After its construction, it came under the control of five leaders led by Lilith and Claud.

However, the city still appeared as an ordinary town on the surface. Except for the perpetually overcast weather, it gave off an eerie and corrupt vibe. It seemed no different from other cities, but it had an unsettling aura.

Cyril and the others quickly infiltrated the city, their werewolf scent heavy, making them susceptible to vampire attention. Therefore, they needed to find a hiding place quickly.

They arrived at a coffee inn with rooms upstairs that were relatively secluded.

“Two rooms for us,” Cyril swiftly requested the innkeeper, glancing around.

“The two at the corner on the second floor,” the innkeeper said with a smile, but her gaze sharpened after a while.

“Are you outsiders?” The innkeeper asked sternly.

Her tone sounded unfriendly, provoking Cyril. Few questioned or challenged Alpha Cyril. Elmer sensed the tension and stepped forward to converse.

“Yes, we’re looking for someone.”

“Looking for someone? That sounds unreasonable. Don’t you know the residents of Darkmoon City?” The innkeeper questioned warily.

They sensed the innkeeper’s suspicion and prepared for a potential confrontation. Elmer tried to respond again.

“What kind of people? Our friend might be lost here.”

“We’re all slaves,” the innkeeper said coldly.

Cyril and the others felt puzzled, but Cyril sensed something unusual about the innkeeper.

“You’re a witch?” Cyril asked coldly, looking at the innkeeper.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Yes, I sensed something unusual about you,” the innkeeper showed a hint of surprise, but she couldn’t sense the darkness from Cyril and the others.

She led them to the room and introduced herself as Melyon, a witch and a vampire hybrid.

Melyon explained to them that the entire Darkmoon City was cultivated as slaves for vampires and black robe wizards. Comprising hybrids of various werewolves and humans, they were used for the pleasure and sustenance of vampires. If they didn’t want to shift, they would become experimental subjects for the black robe wizards’ potions. However, the residents here were oblivious to all this; they often hypnotized unusual events into accidents.

Cyril didn’t expect such a situation here. He angrily smashed the table they were discussing on, unable to contain his emotions.

Cyril couldn’t imagine finding Hazel here, thinking about her graceful body possibly being exploited by vampires, his emotions became uncontrollable.

On the first day they stayed at the inn, in the same city, Hazel, in the dark basement, dreamed.

Hazel saw Hawthorne emerging from the bushes, no longer concealed by darkness. He walked toward Hazel with a hungry gleam in his eyes.

“Darling,” another familiar voice said, “It’s nice to see you again.”

Cyril appeared from the bushes, his black hair capturing every strand of moonlight.

“You know why I’m here.” Cyril straightened his back, making an effort to keep his voice steady and clear. “Tell me, where is she?”

“Well, are you looking for information?” Hawthorne seemed contemplative, a sly smile playing on his face. “But she’s already mine.”

Hazel felt a bit overwhelmed; her blood was now under the control of the vampire, and she was about to endure the pain.

“No.” Hazel shook her head, feeling saddened by the situation. “I won’t go with you.”

“Learning new tricks?” Surprise flickered across Hawthorne’s flawless face, followed by anger. “If you dare to leave, try it, but you’re destined to be mine. My queen.”

When Hazel heard the word “queen,” she choked up. Her heart longed for power; she was Hazel, the queen.

“No one can determine my destiny.”

Her consciousness suddenly awakened, and she sternly reproached Hawthorne, controlling her anger at the last moment.

“I belong to no one.”

“Planning to call your Alpha to threaten me?” Hawthorne’s eyes glinted with cunning. “Let me tell you, this is just the beginning. Your Pack will fall, and you’ll find your rightful place by my side.”

Hazel forcefully shook her head, but her blood overcame her, and she found herself yearning to be with Hawthorne.

In his eyes, Hazel saw desire and the darkness surrounding him calling to her.

“You can’t defeat me, Hawthorne.” Hazel barely uttered his name, devoid of any desire in her words.

“So, you decide to put yourself in danger.” Alpha Cyril sneered. “Hazel, what have you learned? Tell me.”

Cyril looked at Hazel and Hawthorne with merciless eyes.

Hazel furrowed her brows. “I…”

“So, you’ve learned nothing.” Alpha Cyril snorted, shaking his head.

“Hazel.” Cyril suddenly sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“I haven’t been harmed here.” Hazel shook her head.

Cyril’s gaze darkened. “You mean you’ve received the favor of a vampire?”

Cyril roared Hawthorne’s name; his eyes turned ominous. Hazel couldn’t help but lean backward, feeling Cyril’s possessiveness rising within her.

“He can’t have you.” Cyril roared, pinning Hazel against the wall. His eyes were filled with desire and anger, igniting a long-lost heat within Hazel.

“I don’t want him.” Hazel reassured him, but her heart knew it was a lie. Her vampire blood was evidently drawn to Hawthorne; the mark on her shoulder revealed everything.

“I don’t think you’re honest, Hazel.” Cyril leaned in closely, his lips biting Hazel’s ear.

“I need to awaken your memories.” Cyril’s hands moved down Hazel’s waist, squeezing her buttocks roughly. The painful pleasure made Hazel’s core throb, and she wanted more.

“Why did you leave me?” Cyril gruffly spoke, pulling up Hazel’s T-shirt until she was left in just her underwear.

“You won’t be a vampire forever; he can never have you.” Cyril said angrily.

“I’m possessive, and I won’t share what’s mine.”

Cyril slowly uttered each word, placing his hands between her legs, caressing Hazel’s intimate area.

In her dream, Hazel sensed Cyril’s deep scent. Her legs parted involuntarily, and her underwear was pulled to the side. Cyril’s fingers glided over her smooth lips, bringing moisture to her clitoris.

Cyril’s fingers moved steadily inside Hazel, but at a slow pace. Her core tightened around his fingers, already begging for more.

“Just as I said before, Hazel-only good girls get fucked,” Cyril murmured, his voice low. “Your recent behavior has been pretty bad.”

Cyril’s anger, accompanied by his fingers roughly thrusting into Hazel’s intimacy, made her legs tremble, fingers curling, yet she was not entirely satisfied.

Cyril’s touch dispersed any thoughts Hazel had about Hawthorne.

Upon waking up, Hazel stared at herself in the mirror. She contemplated her current situation, feeling Cyril approaching. However, her mind replayed the moment when Hawthorne marked her once again.