Vampire Queen and Her Four Mates

A wisp of white smoke suddenly rose, scorching a few strands of hair off Morgar's head.

Zethar's joyous cries followed immediately, a cascade of celebratory tones echoing in everyone's ears with unabashed delight, as if reveling in the chaos:

"Oh! Going bald! Going bald! Going bald!"

Inside the poultry farm, an orange-haired boy wandered idly, failing to find any prey that caught his interest.

He pulled out a detection device from his pocket and began scanning the surroundings.

After a minute, the needle on the device stopped moving, pointing toward the northeast corner of the farm.

The boy followed the rows of chicken coops and discovered a disheveled patch of grass concealing a small burrow.

Kneeling down, he examined the soil and strands of animal fur left behind. With a quick twist of his body, he slipped through the burrow and emerged on the other side.

"Vampire Clan's leader? They must be in this direction," he murmured.

Standing by the fence, the boy faced the afternoon breeze. His youthful, radiant face exuded an unmistakable sense of lethal intent.

Moments later, another figure emerged from the burrow.

Damon stepped out, his expression grim as he stood by the fence, lost in silent contemplation.

Should he follow? Was Elena in danger?

When Clerk and Shawn arrived at the poultry farm, the chaotic hunt was nearing its end.

Human hunters searched the area for vampire clothing and weapons, trophies to mark their achievements or mementos of the hunt.

Most of them were students or graduate researchers, participating in an actual hunt for the first time. This rare opportunity had them eager and thrilled.

"Report! Two desiccated corpses found in the feed room. Awaiting orders!"

Spotting Shawn in his police uniform, the students naturally reported to him and secured the scene.

Shawn, wearing a calm demeanor, pulled out a pair of gloves from his pocket and handed a pair to Clerk.

He entered the feed room to examine the corpses.

Clerk followed, lifting the caution tape as he bent into the room. After Shawn finished his inspection, Clerk asked, "What's the situation?"

Shawn sneered slightly, inhaling deeply. "Multiple bite wounds on both bodies. It's obvious this wasn't the work of just one vampire. Looks like they were swarmed by a group of fledglings."

Clerk crouched to inspect the corpses, nodding in agreement. "This hunt seems relatively successful. I doubt the Vampire Clan will make any big moves in the near future. Too bad we arrived late and missed a chance to see their leader in action."

"What can you do? Police are always the last to show up," Shawn quipped, skillfully deflecting blame.

"Shut it!" Clerk barked, rolling his eyes.

As they left the room, Shawn added with a sigh, "Two lives lost. If this keeps up, the chief will have a hard time answering to the public."

Before leaving, Clerk encountered Damon near the chicken coop.

"Mr. Gilbert," he greeted with a wry smile, "we've met three times in a single week. Quite the coincidence."

Damon's dark eyes gazed across the vast green fields. With a calm, detached tone, he replied, "If this is what you call coincidence, I'd rather we meet less often."

"Fair point." Clerk chuckled in agreement.

He suddenly recalled a matter and asked, "By the way, the higher-ups were impressed with your last delivery—great quality and style. They're wondering if you'd consider moving up, maybe to a bigger stage?"

Damon lightly shook his head, his refusal polite yet firm.

"No, thank you. There's someone here in Windy City I can't leave behind."

"You mean Miss Zia?" Clerk inquired knowingly. He had done his homework and was well aware of Zia's significance in Damon's life.

"Mr. Gilbert, as far as I know, Miss Zia's been in a coma since her accident six years ago. She may never wake up. Are you sure you want to sacrifice your career for her?"

Damon's smile was faint but unwavering, his gaze lowering as he replied with calm conviction, "Let's just say I'm not ambitious when it comes to my career."

"Rare indeed. Beauty and loyalty—two of the hardest challenges for a hero to overcome. Until next time, then." Clerk extended his hand for a farewell handshake.

"Until next time," Damon replied, clasping Clerk's hand before they parted ways.

As dusk painted the mountains in golden hues and red clouds scattered across the sky, flocks of white doves soared above Times Square, their soft coos filling the air like a gentle snowfall on a May afternoon.

The square teemed with people and cars, a bustling mosaic of life.

Elena hurried through the crowd, holding Ronan's hand while Elysia supported her from the other side.

"We've been circling for ages and still can't shake off that hunter. What now?" Elysia whispered, her face tense as she scanned the surroundings.

Elena's brow furrowed as a wave of nausea surged through her.

"Ugh!" She clutched her mouth, but crimson blood seeped between her fingers, dripping onto the pavement. Her consciousness wavered.

"Elena! You're bleeding! What's happening?!" Ronan exclaimed, panicking. His grip on the blood bag loosened as he nearly reverted to his true form in terror.

Elysia acted swiftly, grabbing Ronan by his ears and preventing a disastrous public display. "Can you show some backbone?" she scolded.

Ronan pouted, his striking eyes welling with tears. "Elena's bleeding! It's terrifying!"

Elysia steadied Elena against a shaded wall and wiped away the blood on her lips and hands with a handkerchief.

"What's wrong? Why are you spitting blood?" she asked anxiously.

Ronan, holding back his fear, muttered, "Her blood smells amazing… but I can't drink it."

As one of the most ancient and powerful Vampire Lords, Elena's blood was a forbidden temptation, fatal to any who dared consume it. Even now, wounded and weakened, she remained a figure of unmatched dominance.

"Cough!"

Elena coughed twice, covering her lips as a strong metallic scent of blood filled the air.

Pulling up her sleeve, she revealed a forearm reduced to blackened bones, barely the length of a hand. She spoke calmly:

"Echo's whip... it's poisoned."

"That venomous witch!" Elysia hissed in fury.

Ronan bit his lip, hesitant to speak. Finally, he mumbled, "A grudge over a stolen husband… in her shoes, you might have gone toxic, too…"

"Shut up! Whose side are you on? Do you want me to throw you out?" Elysia shot him a sharp glare, her frosty eyes cutting through his excuses. How could he still not tell friend from foe at a time like this?

"I'll keep quiet," Ronan muttered, surrendering obediently. He was timid—afraid of death, and even more afraid of leaving Elena's side.

Elysia crouched beside Elena, offering, "Let me carry you."

Elena shook her head slightly, her silver eyes turning to Ronan. "Let him do it."

"Yes, yes, let me carry you!" Ronan perked up, emboldened by Elena's trust.

Elysia frowned doubtfully. "He's so weak—can he even manage? What if he panics halfway and bolts again?"

"This… this time, I won't!" Ronan stammered, lowering his head to avoid Elena's gaze.

He still regretted abandoning her once when he was younger. But now he was older. Much older.

"Heh. Let's give it a shot," Elena said, her voice chilling with a deadly edge. "If he dares to ditch me again, as long as I, Elena, draw breath, I'll hunt him to the ends of the earth!"

Once, Elena's ruthlessness was unparalleled within the Vampire Clan.

"Alright, let's go."

Ronan carried Elena on his back, inhaling deeply as he steeled himself. Following Elysia, they left in a hurry.

As they ran, Ronan's thoughts wandered: The ends of the earth… that's doable. Even a thousand miles is fine. If it's just chasing without killing, that's even better.

Under the golden dusk, Elysia shielded Elena and Ronan as they leapt across rooftops, revealing their Vampire Clan forms. They sped toward their new residence at Lakeside Pavilion, hidden within a magical barrier.

Not far behind them, less than a hundred meters away, an orange-haired youth rode a shared bicycle through the crowd.

A pair of binoculars hung around his neck, and he casually chewed papaya-flavored bubble gum. With practiced ease, he navigated the bustling streets, neither too close nor too far, tailing them unhurriedly.

At 6 PM, Damon drove to pick up Caroline from work.

Caroline had clocked out an hour early and waited in front of the office building for Damon.

"Mr. Gilbert, sorry to trouble you," she said with a smile.

"No trouble at all. Where to?" Damon replied, opening the car door.

"Solara Residences. There's a new restaurant there that I've been meaning to try," Caroline answered, deliberating over what she might order for dinner.

Truthfully, she chose the restaurant because it was far from her home, giving her an excuse to have Mr. Gilbert drive her back later.

A woman's lifelong happiness often depends on her own efforts.

Damon activated the GPS and set the destination. His gaze flickered, pausing for a moment before starting the car.

Solara Residences… isn't that where Elena recently bought property?

Night fell quietly.

The moon rose resplendent, casting its silver glow over the city.

By 7 PM, Elena and her companions halted abruptly atop a rooftop.

Standing before them was a striking orange-haired youth.

He squinted one eye, a silver gun in his hand aimed playfully—or menacingly—at Elena's head.

Ronan's legs trembled as he held onto Elena, instinctively retreating.

If Elysia hadn't tied his wrist to Elena's with a rope, he might have fled yet again.

"Get lost!" Elysia growled, baring her Vampire Clan fangs as a violent, cold aura radiated from her.

The youth, Soren, smirked arrogantly. Waving a finger, he taunted, "Sure, I'll leave. But first, why don't you come over and let me teach you some manners?"

"Howl!"

Elysia roared, her claws growing rapidly as she leapt at Soren without hesitation, fangs bared.

Soren dodged effortlessly. His handsome face darkened, a chilling frost enveloping his features.

"Of course, you'd attack on command. A beast without brains. No wonder you've been exiled for so long!"

Though he avoided her bite, Elysia's claws tore through his clothing, which irked him greatly.

"What did you say?!" Elysia snarled, lunging at him again, consumed with rage.

Nearby, Ronan couldn't help but shout, "That's cheating, human! Fight fair, and no personal insults!"

Soren faced Elysia head-on, leaping into the air as he aimed the silver gun at her mid-charge.

A loud bang echoed as the bullet fired.

Glancing at Ronan with disdain, Soren sneered, "And what rock did this idiot crawl out from?"

"Howl!"

Elysia crashed to the ground, her expression twisted in agony.

The bullet had struck her shoulder, narrowly missing her head and heart. If it had, she would have turned to ash instantly.

Still, being injured by a human was a humiliation she couldn't bear.

Ronan rushed to Elysia's side, supporting Elena as he knelt. "Elysia, are you okay?"

Trembling, Elysia grabbed Ronan's sleeve, her vision blurred. She gave him a firm warning: "Protect Elena. Even if it costs you your life, don't run!"

Soren approached slowly, each step deliberate. His silver gun aimed squarely at Elena once more.

A wicked smile curled on his lips. "Relax. None of you are leaving tonight. Two billion for the most esteemed Vampire Clan member… who could resist?"

Elena fumbled with the rope binding her wrist, then stood shakily and took two steps toward Soren.

Her sight blurred, she relied solely on his voice to determine his position. "Who are you? And how do you know so much about the Vampire Clan?"

Soren chuckled coldly, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk.

"I know far more than just that bounty. But I'm afraid you won't live long enough to hear the rest."

He loaded his gun, aiming at her forehead, finger poised on the trigger.

"You won't kill me," Elena said firmly, lifting her head. Her silver eyes were icy and resolute. "If I die, I'm worthless to you."

Soren wagged his finger playfully, a devilish charm lighting his face. "Wanna bet? Let's count to three and find out. One, two…"

"Don't kill Elena!" Ronan suddenly curled into a ball and launched himself at Soren, slamming into his chest and knocking him to the ground.

Sinking his fangs into Soren's gun-wielding arm, Ronan growled. Though he looked like a timid boy, he was a vampire over a thousand years old.

Humans are food.

No matter how powerful the meal, a vampire has nothing to fear!