Chapter 119: Longing from Afar
Hazel disregarded the gazes around her. Her heart pounded, blood surged through her veins, and an empowering force seemed to fill her body. Quickly shifting back to human form, she blended into the crowd.
“Hazel-”
Cyril saw Hazel about to leave again and hurriedly caught up.
Onlookers were shocked by her actions. Little did they expect these two wolves to be werewolves.
Urban legends turned into reality!
Soon, Claud, hearing the commotion, arrived at the scene. He hypnotized the crowd, making them forget everything that had just happened.
Watching the departing figures, he narrowed his eyes. Claud hadn’t anticipated Hazel’s sudden outburst, but upon seeing Cyril, everything became clear.
Hazel ran back to her underground dwelling, and Cyril, without hesitation, followed. He blocked Hazel’s attempt to close the door, his expression dark. Then, he forced the door open, entering the basement completely.
Cyril’s gaze fell on the coffin in the basement, his eyes filled with distress. He spoke with a hint of frustration, “Is this the place you chose to live after leaving the Pack?”
Cyril’s eyes grew darker, a trace of anger surfacing. “I thought you’d seek refuge with another wolf pack after leaving ours. I didn’t expect you to come into vampire territory.”
“What are you thinking, Hazel!”
Approaching Hazel, Cyril grabbed her chin, forcing her to make eye contact. His thumb grazed her lower lip, attempting to extract a reasonable explanation from her.
It had been a long time since Hazel felt Cyril’s touch. A wave of longing surged within her, but she knew she shouldn’t entertain such thoughts in her current situation.
“This isn’t my place. I was just coincidentally taken in by Claud for blood control training.”
“Did you sleep with a new vampire?” Cyril scanned down Hazel’s face, noticing Hawthorne’s mark and hearing the unfamiliar name, Claud.
“No, I just happened to see Hawthorne this morning.”NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.
“I have nothing with Claud; he’s my trainer, that’s all.”
A hint of panic flashed through Hazel. She admitted that in the morning, whether due to the effect of the mark or a genuine attraction to Hawthorne, or perhaps due to weeks without physical desires, she did desire Hawthorne.
This was something Cyril must not know.
“I have gained more control over my powers now, but…” Hazel sighed. “I really want to know how to remove this foolish mark on my skin. Otherwise, I can’t be sure whose partner I am.”
However, their mind link betrayed Hazel, and Cyril’s anger reached its peak.
He never allowed others to share what was his.
Despite Hazel emphasizing that she belonged to no one, Cyril felt the need to teach this headstrong she-wolf a lesson and test what her newfound strength truly looked like.
“Perhaps we should seek help from a witch, instead of you running away like this, almost revealing our existence to humans.”
Cyril forcefully inserted a finger into Hazel’s mouth, signaling her to stop explaining.
“Is this your new room?”
“If two wolves making love in a coffin sounds like it would anger vampires, then yes.”
Cyril’s eyes darkened as he pushed Hazel onto the coffin, his ears picking up footsteps approaching.
“Strip,” Alpha Cyril calmly ordered, a wicked smile playing on his lips as his gaze roamed over every inch of Hazel’s exposed skin.
Though unwilling to comply, Hazel’s body responded as if her bloodlust was screaming. Her desires heightened after the recent carnage.
Hazel removed her lingerie, and Cyril’s eyes gleamed with hunger, scanning her naked form.
“At a time like this, you’re excited too?” Cyril spoke with malicious intent, wanting to take Hazel right then and there. However, he heard footsteps slowly approaching-another unfamiliar scent.
Cyril grabbed Hazel’s hair, pushing her down, loosened his belt, and thrust his member into her throat with a low growl. He began moving violently, releasing his frustration. His hands roamed Hazel’s body, searching for her swollen clit, fingers moving rapidly.
At this moment, all his patience shattered, and all the longing turned into intensified actions.
Sudden pleasure filled Hazel’s mouth and core. Her legs naturally closed, offering no resistance, allowing Cyril to treat her recklessly.
Hazel knew Cyril too well, knowing how to make her submit. A single finger would make her crave, he knew. Hazel sweated lightly, her mind focused on one desire: to “have him” completely.
She wanted full possession, Cyril’s forceful impact, making her forget everything.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Cyril said in a deep voice.
“Yes,” Hazel murmured vaguely.
Her face flushed, body restless and heated. With Cyril’s movements, Hawthorne’s image vanished from her mind.
Only when Cyril poured his hot seed down her throat did Hazel gradually regain her senses. She admitted that in the past few weeks of training, she wanted to escape the longing for Cyril deep within her.
Hazel couldn’t face the fact that she had been marked by a vampire.
“Now what?” Hazel put on her clothes, determined to clarify everything.
“Why not ask me? My dear Hazel.”
The footsteps ceased, and Claud stood in front of Hazel’s coffin, a hint of determination in his indifferent tone.
“Even wolves won’t understand the power of a Hybrid, let alone witches.”
“Claud, are you saying you know how to remove this mark?” Hazel’s hope ignited.
“Queen, in these past few weeks, we’ve been training your vampire powers every day. Don’t you know my loyalty to you?” Claud approached Hazel, lifting her chin.
This action was enough to anger Cyril, but he sensed that this vampire didn’t harbor much malice.
“As you know, the vampire king is now deceased. The next king is highly anticipated. It’s a chaotic period in the dark world. We need a queen of pure bloodline.”
Claud informed Hazel that if she chose to return to the werewolf world, the vampire kingdom would undoubtedly face challenges. Without ensuring pure bloodline, it could lead to disaster.