AChapter 90 – The Howl
Meanwhile, that same night…
Bruno was driving back.
The road lights slid across the SUV's windshield, but Bruno barely noticed them. His thoughts spun out of control. Again and again they returned to the same place: Walter's lips. The kiss. The silence that crushed him afterward.
He shook his head. Tried to anchor himself to the road. But his mind stayed trapped there.
Far away… in a maze of tunnels beneath the city, something moved through the shadows.
Dirty water splashed against its boots. The damp walls oozed. The figure advanced with deliberate steps—like a predator that had just opened its eyes.
It reached an exit. The manhole cover screeched as it gave way.
It emerged to the surface. Straightened.
The moon washed over its face.
And then it howled.
It wasn't the howl of an ordinary werewolf. It was deeper. More unnatural. Inhuman. The sound tore through the night—a roar that didn't belong to this world.
Behind it, the shadows vomited more figures. One. Two. Three. Ten. All of them lifted their heads. All of them howled.
The city trembled under the shockwave.
Bruno felt it first. A sharp sting at the back of his neck. His eyes flashed gold. "What the hell…?" He gripped the steering wheel until it creaked.
Damián jolted awake. His pupils lit up crystal gold. He knew that sound.
Melanie opened her eyes in the dark. Her purple pupils glowed like embers. "So you're back…" she whispered.
Melanie's grandfather—the Lord—sat up slowly. He recognized the howl instantly. All too well.
The Duchess woke with a gasp. Her silver eyes sliced through the darkness.
The howl woke many. But not everyone.
Titus slept deeply. Sofía too. Too exhausted to hear the call.
For those who did hear it… it wasn't just a sound. It was a declaration. A threat. A challenge. War.
That wolf had just declared war on every clan. On anyone who crossed its path.
The hunt had begun.
---
While the wolves' howls echoed in the distance that night, Titus slept deeply. The night at Sofía's mansion was silent—almost too silent. The curtains barely stirred with the soft breeze from the garden. The waning moon bathed the room in pale, bluish light, casting long shadows across the walls.
His breathing was slow. Heavy. The exhaustion of the day had finally won.
Toc.
A sharp crack.
Titus didn't stir.
Toc… toc…
Clearer this time. Sharper. Something razor‑thin scraped the glass.
Toc‑toc‑toc…
Persistent. Patient. As if it knew exactly how long to wait.
Titus shifted. His breath hitched.
Toc‑toc‑TOC.
The insistence pierced his sleep. His eyes snapped open. He blinked in the dimness.
Silence.
Toc.
He sat up. His heart began to pound. Third floor. No one could be out there.
Toc‑toc.
A metallic scrape.
Ice slid down his spine.
Barefoot on the cold floor, he approached the window. Each step dragged. Curiosity battled instinct.
The sound stopped. Dead silence.
He reached for the curtain. Pulled it aside.
And saw her.
Hovering in midair.
Deep crimson skin gleaming under the moon. Raven hair spilling like ink over bare shoulders. Eyes pure white. No pupils. No iris.
Black lips curved in a faint smile.
Dark breastplate barely containing full curves. Wasp waist. Impossible hips. Minimal bikini. Thigh‑high stiletto boots climbing endless legs. Demon wings unfurling behind her—leathery, pulsing, holding her level with the third floor.
But what scratched the glass… Claws like daggers. Long. Black. Razor‑sharp.
Toc.
Titus stumbled back. Raw terror clenched his throat. "What…?"
She tilted her head. Her smile widened. She raised one finger. Beckoned him.
Slow. Mesmerizing.
A hum filled the air. Not sound. Feeling. Inside his skull. In his chest.
Titus stepped forward. Unwilling. Another step. Breath slowing. Deepening.
Her finger curled again. Sweet. Irresistible.
Then something in her face struck him. The lips. The jawline. Familiar.
He frowned. "She looks like…?" Swallowed hard. Closer now. "No… Professor Diana."
She grinned. Wider. Delighted.
Beckoned again.
Resistance melted. Fear → curiosity → submission.
Titus unlatched the window.
Click.
Cold night air rushed in.
She extended her hand. Claws glinting.
His fingers brushed hers. One more step.
Then… the floor vanished.
---
Titus jolted awake.
He bolted upright, gasping. Cold sweat drenched him. He scanned the room. Walls intact. Staggered to the window. Locked. Latched.
He exhaled, shaking. "Just a nightmare…"
But his heart knew better.
He took a deep breath, trying to convince himself it was true. He glanced at the window one last time. Locked. Latched. Nothing outside.
He collapsed back onto the bed. His breathing slowly steadied. Exhaustion weighed down his eyelids again. And within minutes… he fell asleep.
But the nightmares… weren't done with him.
---
Darkness returned.
When Titus opened his eyes again, he was no longer in his room.
He stood in a colossal hall. Vast. Endless. Black columns rose toward a ceiling lost in shadow. Torches burned along the walls, casting red, flickering light that barely pierced the gloom.
In the center: an elevated dais.
Atop it… a throne.
Dark. Massive. Carved with ancient shapes that seemed to writhe in the shadows.
A figure sat upon it. A werewolf. Its fur: pitch black. Blending into the hall's darkness. A heavy golden crown rested on its head. Ancient. A thick golden chain hung around its neck, a large medallion glinting faintly in the torchlight.
But its eyes… Purple. Deep. Dark. Ancient. Deadly. Bottomless voids.
And beside it… her. The same figure. Crimson skin. Wings folding slowly behind her back. Her smile: soft. Almost tender.
She leaned toward the black wolf. Kissed its cheek. Her hand trailed slowly across its face—gentle, intimate. But her eyes held something else. Something that summoned the darkest desires buried in any man.
Titus shivered. He tried to move. To back away. He couldn't. Legs frozen.
The black wolf raised its head slowly. Purple eyes locked onto Titus.
Silence.
Then it growled.
Deep. Primal. A thousand lions roaring in a single cavern throat. The sound shook the hall. Torches flickered. Shadows writhed.
Titus fell backward. Terror crashed over him. Heart exploding.
The vision shattered.
Darkness swallowed him.
---
Titus jolted awake. He bolted upright. Drenched in sweat. Breathing ragged. He scanned desperately. Room. Walls. Window. Everything in place.
But his heart pounded.
As if that growl… still echoed inside his chest.
---
Hook: And that silence hid a danger that would soon come to light…