Chapter 9 The Search

The blood of the creature splashed on his face, but Damon remained unmoved as he tossed the creature's head aside. His face held a scornful look as he made his way back to the carriage.

Alfred was left with just one of the creatures, who was more determined than ever to tear him to pieces. Alfred shoved the creature to the ground, sat on him, and began delivering blow after blow to his face. The creature's hand shot up to Alfred's neck, choking him.

"Ride us back home when you're done playing. I'll be waiting in the carriage," Damon said nonchalantly as he walked away. Alfred cursed inwardly.

Damon got back into the carriage, his elegant fingers pressing against his temples as he sat, lost in thought. Caesar? Who the hell was that now? Damon suspected the fool had created those creatures to kill him. He thought of reasons why Caesar would want him dead, but then again, he was used to manipulating so many people as pawns to achieve whatever he wanted.

Alfred was literally dragging himself to the front of the carriage. His shirt was completely torn, and he was a bleeding mess. Thankfully, he had managed to defeat the last creature. He hurriedly got on the horse and began riding them away from there.

After minutes of fast riding, they arrived at the castle. Alfred quickly dismounted the horse, opened the carriage door, and Damon stepped out. Rayven approached with a sword in one hand and the other in his pocket.

"Alfred, you seem like you're in great shape," Rayven chuckled.

Alfred almost glared at him but controlled himself.

"Shall I pass orders to restrict movement in the forest route, milord?" Alfred asked Damon.

"There's no need for that because those creatures will certainly not camp there again. Whoever their leader is will soon find out the plan failed, and they'll come up with something new. But for the sake of the helpless humans, block the forest route temporarily-and get me the Duke and the Viscount," Damon ordered. Alfred bowed and quickly went to carry out his instructions.

"Seems like your day was pretty interesting," Rayven smirked.

"Why are you still here? You're supposed to be long gone by now," Damon said, rolling his eyes.

"How can I miss the spectacle of the season? I need to be here to witness everything that's about to unfold, just so it won't sound unbelievable when others tell me," Rayven winked.

Damon ignored him and walked inside the castle. He headed straight to his suite, where a few maids were preparing his bath.

"Leave," he ordered, and they quickly ran out of the room in fear.

Damon discarded his bloody clothes and stepped into the bathroom. He immersed himself fully in the golden bathtub, staying underwater for an hour before finishing his bath.

He dressed in fresh clothes from his closet, then stepped out of his room to find Alfred waiting for him.

"Milord, the Duke and the Viscount are here to see you," Alfred announced. Damon followed him to the drawing room, where the two men were already waiting.

"Milord," they both bowed as Damon settled comfortably in a chair before them.

A long moment of silence passed as Damon observed them keenly, making them tremble in fear.

"Is everything alright, my lord?" the Duke asked carefully, unable to handle the Alpha's intense gaze.

"Everything is perfect," Damon replied. "I want you to start sending invitations for the Winter's Ball. Send them to the North, East, and South empires. Invite as many people as you can and..." Damon paused, turning his gaze to the Viscount. "The lowly peasant humans are invited as well," he added.

The Duke and the Viscount exchanged wide-eyed looks. It was clear as daylight that the Alpha regarded humans as lowly, insignificant beings-so why invite them to the most prestigious ball of the season?

"We'll get it done as soon as possible, milord," the Duke said, rising to his feet with the Viscount. They both bowed and left the drawing room, led outside the castle.

Damon leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers slowly on the table with his eyes closed. Later, he returned to his room, retrieved a cigarette and lighter from his drawer, lit it, and began smoking.

The black smoke escaped from his nose and mouth. His wolf tried to communicate with him, but Damon blocked it immediately; he wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone-not even his damn wolf.

Looking through the mirror, Damon saw the orange hue painting the sky as the clouds darkened.

"I can't feel her," a voice said in his head-it was his wolf. Damon's eyes darkened, almost turning pitch black.

He dropped the cigarette. Before he could control himself, he searched every crook and cranny of the castle, but she was nowhere to be found. His jaw tightened as he realized he had forgotten she was at the market with a maid, and they had taken the forest route.

Alfred met the Alpha outside the castle, quickly bowing before delivering the news.

"It has been reported that the maid and the slave sent to the market earlier this morning have yet to return, milord," Alfred said, although he knew the Alpha would never care about a common servant.

Alfred instinctively took two steps back as he felt the Alpha's aura grow darker and more dangerous. He wondered what had triggered this. Was it really the missing servants? Hell no!

At that moment, a guard arrived with the Alpha's horse, and Rayven trailed behind on his own horse.

"When exactly did they leave the mansion?" Damon asked in a calm tone that made Alfred's hair stand on end.

"Early in the morning, sire," Alfred replied with a gulp.

"And you're just telling me about their disappearance now?" Damon scoffed. "Keep in mind that if anything happens to her, I'll make you drink your own blood until the last drop," Damon said as he mounted the horse.

Alfred staggered back in awe, watching the Alpha ride through the castle gates. He couldn't help but wonder-who the hell was this particular servant?