Mated to the Mad Lord-Chapter 216: War

Vampire Council.

Vazer had just stepped out of the car, his dark coat draped over his shoulder, when he felt an intense glare leveled in his direction. A smile hovered over his lips as he concentrated on smoothing out the wrinkles on his shirt, his bodyguard slamming the car door shut behind him.

Laurel, his head of guards, stepped in front of him like a shield, something that almost made Vazer chuckle in amusement as he allowed it. The sun had just gone down, and the sky was slowly darkening, which seemed the perfect time for pure-blooded Reds to walk around, including Pale Skins, who were more affected by the sun.

The building Vazer slowly walked into looked even creepier, as if it had been carved out of a storybook, with tall trees draping long, swirly shadows over the structure. There was barely any light, but it wasn’t something Reds needed or wanted, considering how sharp their eyesight was in the dark.

"Be careful, my Lord! He might try to attack you!" Laurel whispered under his breath as he stood to the side in front of the double doors that led into the mansion, gesturing for Vazer to go in. His face bore a disapproving look, annoyed that he was unable to follow Vazer inside, as everyone who was not a Lord was banned from taking even a single step in.

"You worry too much!" Vazer responded with a sly look on his face as he walked in, his dark coat hanging loosely over his shoulder. He heard the soft sound of the door being shut behind him.

"You took your sweet time!" a voice immediately called out, even as Vazer stared forward and began to walk, having already spotted the speaker before he spoke.

"Lord Javi! If I knew you were waiting for me, I would have kept you waiting!" Vazer responded without slowing his pace as he continued to move along the long corridor, heading toward the hall where the meeting was to be held.

He wasn’t surprised when Javi fell into step beside him, which brought a small smile to his lips, even as he failed to respond or show that he was bothered by it. It took barely sixty seconds for them to reach the hall where the other three were bound to be waiting. Whatever Javi intended to do or say, Vazer was confident he had no choice but to get to it before they arrived. He wasn’t surprised when Javi began to speak as they walked.

"You heard about Lord Masdaw... I suppose?"

"Yes! Terrible... just terrible! I wonder what he did to get on the werewolves’ bad side for them to target him like that!" Vazer said with a mouthful tone and an exaggerated sigh, continuing to walk forward without changing his pace, neither hurrying nor slowing down.

"You think it was the werewolves?" Javi asked, a somewhat surprised look on his face, even as Vazer responded with the same expression but with more agitation than calm.

"...Isn’t it? Who else could it be? I heard everyone died..." Vazer continued, shaking his head. "Just the thought that it could have been me... scary!" He shook his head even more, his reactions so perfect that there was absolutely no loophole to be found.

"Yes! I agree!" Javi responded, even as Vazer began to feel annoyed, though he knew better than to show it on his face. He wondered what Javi could possibly hope to gain by having such a mundane conversation with him.

"But it’s good that a few survivors were found, is it not?" Javi said, his face turned and fixed on Vazer, who didn’t even miss a step as he continued to walk forward at the same pace.

Nothing changed except the smile on Vazer’s face, which grew a bit wider, his curved and slanted red eyes narrowing slightly as he tightened his gaze.

"That’s great! Hopefully, they have enough information to give us a chance to get revenge on Masdaw’s behalf," Vazer responded, catching sight of Javi, who vigorously nodded in agreement. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

"Yes! It’s one thing for it to be werewolves, but can you imagine how bad it would be if a Red was behind it? All the people who lost their lives for nothing!" Javi said, his tone lower and more aggrieved. Vazer didn’t respond at first, only pausing as they reached the entrance of the hall. Standing side by side, he turned to his left to look Javi squarely in the face.

"Our rate of reproduction is terrible... if a Red was behind it, I’ll want his head as a decoration for my wall!" Vazer responded, his voice infused with clear and furious anger as he spoke, his gaze unwavering. He then turned around to enter the hall, ignoring the other three who sat at the table where there were only seven chairs. He picked his usual seat and sat down.

On his face was a blank expression, but deep in his heart, he was sneering passionately at Javi, whom he was extremely wary of. Javi was a fucking maniac who killed Reds and Pale Skins in his mansion for fun, not to mention humans. Vazer knew Javi didn’t care a bit about Masdaw’s men who had died or anyone else who might have been in the mansion when it burned down. This worried Vazer even more, as he had no clue what the cunning son of a bitch was up to.

His gaze remained completely neutral as he watched Javi move to sit in his usual seat, which was right beside Masdaw’s—now completely empty. Vazer was still expecting Javi to speak first, something he enjoyed doing to assert dominance and seem like the Red King he aspired to be. But he was a bit surprised when he heard Lord Dravile speak instead.

"Lord Masdaw is dead, which I’m sure we’re all aware of by now!" Dravile began, unchecked anger blazing in his red eyes as he balled his fists and placed them on the table. Vazer wasn’t sure if that was truly how Dravile felt or if the show of anger was more for their benefit than anything else.

"He was killed in his home, and from the reports I got from my men, it seems to have been a huge attack with loud gunshots and artillery rounds, followed by explosive equipment!"

"Clearly, this was done by our sworn enemies, the werewolves. We might not know who exactly did it, but enough evidence was found to show that it was indeed them!" he continued, allowing silence to fill the air as he shifted his gaze to the others one after the other, curious to know if they understood what this meant for them... for all of them!

No one spoke until they heard a slight rapping sound against the table, which drew all their attention to Lord Hayna, who sat right beside Dravile. Her long black hair reached down to her neck and not an inch longer.

"It means only one thing..." she said, opening her mouth to speak. "We’re going to war!"

But she had just spoken when a slight chuckle immediately rang out through the entire hall. It came from a woman with pale skin and red eyes, but with red hair so vibrant it almost looked unnatural—almost as unnatural as her laughter, which didn’t seem to reach her eyes.

"You have something to say, Rasha?" Hayna barked out, her tone filled with displeasure, her gaze fixed on Rasha, who simply leaned on the table, twirling her long red hair with her fingers and a smile on her lips.

"That’s bold of you, isn’t it? Declaring war like that... just because most of your ancestors are dead doesn’t mean I’m willing to risk the lives of mine!" Rasha responded, but the words were barely out of her mouth when Hayna jumped to her feet, staring at Rasha with a look that seemed to call death down on her a million times. Her hands itched to do it herself as she spoke, anticipating each word.

"Insult. My. Ancestors. Again! Go. Ahead. I. Dare. You."

The air in the hall was tense, and one would think that seeing a fight was about to break out, most of the lords would intervene, especially Javi, Vazer, and Dravile. But instead, they simply leaned back into their chairs and waited.

The same exact thoughts flashed through their minds—if a fight indeed broke out and a lord died, it would simply mean that the rights to the district would be fought for and shared, unlike the werewolves, who usually depended on heirs and children to take over first. In the case of Reds, the lords had the right to a high chunk of whatever was fought for before whatever was left was given to the dead lord’s relatives. It was the way it had been done to ensure that the stronger lords had more lands to protect and take care of.

One look around was enough for Rasha to see what they all thought as she slowly got to her feet, her gaze focused on Hayna, especially since she had thrown out the insult on purpose. Hayna’s district, some fifty years ago before the war, had belonged to Rasha’s family before her father perished in the war, only for Hayna’s mother to take over it before she also died.

"Your ancestors..." Rasha began, her body slightly hunched, ready to attack even before she finished the sentence, only to freeze. Hayna did the same as a soft voice—one that seemed incapable of hurting a fly—suddenly rang out.

"Ladies... Masdaw just died. Can we do this later?" The voice was low, almost shy, but somehow it sent a shiver down their backs, considering the fact that Lord Moona’s district was three times the size of theirs, and it had been earned, both by her ancestors and by her.

Her soft, innocent eyes settled on them, much redder than before, as she frowned and continued to speak. "Today’s not for fighting... I’m in a bad mood." Her voice was still extremely soft, but the threat was just as clear.