Chapter 3

Silently, Cale extended his arm with a fluid grace, retrieving what appeared to be a pivotal file from the table. He deftly perused its contents, a practiced maneuver designed to deflect Dafnar’s persistent inquiries into his personal affairs.

This was not the first instance the prince had employed such stratagems to circumvent protracted and fruitless discourse. Yet, Dafnar, astutely attuned to the his evasions, persisted with a determined edge, his inquiry now tinged with a subtle challenge.

“Are you deliberately sidestepping me? You have never shied away from direct confrontations on the battlefield, yet when it concerns the princess, you choose a path of avoidance.”

Unfazed, Cale maintained his focused scrutiny of the document, embodying an aura of composed equanimity, patience, and unyielding self-possession—qualities.

Observing this unyielding composure, Dafnar reluctantly acquiesced, steering the conversation toward a topic more aligned with his comfort.

“Very well, you have the upper hand in this contest of wills. Cease your deliberate silence. Incidentally, the dossier you hold contains the latest intelligence on the werewolves’ campaign against witches. Their efforts are aimed at shielding human inhabitants of the forests.”

Dafnar espoused the belief that by targeting witches, werewolves inadvertently advanced the interests of vampires, thereby eliminating threats to their sustenance.

Cale listened with a measured intensity, his hand thoughtfully caressing his chin as he contemplated the ramifications before delivering his considered response.

“While werewolves may unwittingly serve our cause by hunting witches and safeguarding humans, their numbers and influence show no sign of waning. Alcide Wagner’s prowess is well-documented, and his campaign against witches likely serves as a mere diversion for someone of his stature.”

Unlike vampires, werewolves maintained a symbiotic relationship with humans, dwelling among them and offering protection when required. Humans sought sanctuary in werewolf domains to evade the predations of vampires, only to find themselves imperiled by witches capable of assuming human form, abducting and sacrificing hapless victims for arcane purposes. In response, humans beseeched the werewolves for sanctuary and safeguarding.

Alcide, Cale’s chief adversary, commanded the most formidable werewolf clan in the region. Raised by his grandmother following the tragic demise of his parents, he was renowned for his valor, prodigious strength, and unrelenting antipathy toward vampires.

At the mention of Alcide’s name, Dafnar’s countenance stiffened. He comprehended the existential threat posed by him and exhaled deeply before addressing Eric with solemn resolve.

“Mhm, you have a point. While their actions might inadvertently benefit us, their deliberate protection of humans serves to deplete our resources. We must devise a strategy before our circumstances deteriorate further.”

Cale set the file aside, covering his eyes with a contemplative hand as he chose his words with care.

“Indeed, that may well be their intention. However, initiating premature hostilities would prove catastrophic if we were to confront Alcide’s forces without viable support. Patience is our ally; we await the backing of the Eastern Vampire Kingdom.”

Cale, acutely cognizant of their precarious situation, acknowledged the werewolves’ ascendancy owed in part to Sierra’s grandfather’s regrettable oversight in exterminating their lineage when the opportunity had presented itself. Yet, he refrained from castigating the king, cognizant of the complexities that had likely informed his decisions.

As the future sovereign, Cale bore the solemn duty of devising a solution to safeguard their species from extinction, dedicating his energies to persuading the hesitant Eastern Kingdom monarch. His sole glimmer of hope lay in the monarch’s heir, whose temperament diverged markedly from his father’s.

In contrast to Cale’s measured approach, Dafnar harbored impatience. Were it his decision alone, he would favor immediate, albeit futile, action over waiting on an uncertain ally. With a lingering sigh, he rose from his seat and departed the chamber with measured strides.

“I must concede your superior patience, Prince.”

Alone, Cale retrieved a black jade from his pocket—a cherished gift from Sierra bestowed upon his eighteenth birthday. Clutching it tightly within his palm, he murmured softly, almost introspectively.

“At times, I envy your fearless resolve, General.”