The Vampire King's Pet-Chapter 345: Break Free

One would have thought that, considering they were family, he would go easy on her—but he didn’t.

It always looked like he had a vendetta against her, even as he sucked her blood like it was the sweetest nectar he had ever tasted. His grip on her was merciless, fingers digging into her shoulders as though he feared she might escape him even now. The sound of swallowing echoed far too loudly in the dungeon’s hollow silence, each gulp deliberate and unhurried.

Even as it happened, every single person in the dungeon—especially the mercenaries—went ahead and put as much space between themselves and Vander as possible. Chains rattled softly as some stepped back too quickly. The last thing they wanted to be was collateral damage.

Falson, who stood behind the mercenaries, didn’t seem to like what was happening in the slightest. His jaw tightened as he also took a step back, boots scraping lightly against the stone floor. He glanced at Gregory, who seemed to be struggling not to bolt out of there entirely. Gregory’s fingers twitched near his cloak, body tense like a drawn bowstring.

All of them had experienced Zyren’s shadow bond before—the very same ability that had frozen every one of their actions earlier. It was a powerful skill, one that the man standing before them clearly possessed as well, and perhaps even more. After all, he had just killed his own mother for her blood.

Something that was banned for being obscene.

But that didn’t change the fact that it actually worked.

Vander continued to loudly gulp her blood, the dungeon falling into complete silence. Everyone watched, half-hoping he would stop before he drained her completely—but he didn’t. The air felt heavy, oppressive, as if even the shadows themselves were holding their breath.

He only stopped right before he let her body drop to the floor.

The dull thud echoed unnaturally loud.

Slowly, Vander turned to look at them, wiping the sides of his blood-smeared mouth with the back of his hands. His movements were languid, almost lazy, as though he had all the time in the world. A sly smile spread across his face as he grinned at them, lips still stained red, before slowly opening his mouth to speak—his tone oddly strained, like someone who had almost forgotten how to use it.

"...I smell werewolves."

His gaze locked onto Falson and Gregory, who couldn’t help but flinch under the weight of it.

Even as his eyes drifted and settled on Jared and Clara, they didn’t dare meet his stare. They knew better. Maniacs like him were always looking for weaknesses to exploit—and nothing more.

"...You are werewolves," he pointed out, his grin growing wider as his gaze sharpened on them. "Interesting... interesting..."

His red eyes scanned all of them, head tilting slightly as if reassessing their worth.

"My brother must have been a menace."

As he spoke, he stepped out of his cell, movements unsteady, like a man relearning how to walk. He licked his lips slowly, deliberately, making it painfully clear that he was still hungry for more blood.

The mercenaries felt a collective shiver crawl down their spines. They had just watched this monster tear into his own mother’s throat. Nothing made them special. Nothing made them safe.

"Let’s go! Someone is bound to come running!" Vander said suddenly, voice sharper now, even as he headed straight for the entrance. It was clear the last thing he wanted was to remain in the dungeon for even a second longer.

King Jared and Clara barely said a word. Jared simply gestured toward Falson, who immediately directed the mercenaries to move out. Having already been paid, the mercenaries bowed quickly toward the four heavily cloaked figures who had hired them, wasting no time before heading off in the opposite direction.

The four of them took another route, Vander following closely behind as they made their way toward the inn. His footsteps echoed unevenly, but no one dared comment on it.

No one spoke—not until they were all back inside Jared’s room at the inn.

Once the door was securely shut, they removed their cloaks. Gregory gathered them without complaint and left immediately to dispose of them, his departure hurried and stiff.

Moments after Gregory left, Vander moved toward the table and poured himself a generous glass of wine. He drank deeply, visibly savoring it, letting out a low breath of satisfaction.

He didn’t look surprised when he noticed the furry ears on the werewolves in the room—something he had already deduced.

"Zyren did that to your arm, didn’t he?" Vander said casually. "You must be pretty desperate to break me out of prison."

Jared’s blank expression slowly tightened into a deep frown.

"Zyren doesn’t think I’m a threat to him, though," Vander continued, pouring himself more wine. "Why do you think he kept me alive?"

No one answered.

All of them watched him intently, especially Falson, who made sure to keep as much distance as possible. They were strong—there was no denying that—but the shadow bloodline was a terrifying power to contend with.

Vander, however, wasn’t much of a talker. He continued to pour wine into his cup, gulping it down without restraint. It was almost pitiful—like a man who had wandered a desert for decades and had finally found water.

He ignored the rest of them completely, allowing silence to settle thickly in the room until he finished.

Meanwhile, King Jared couldn’t shake the growing knot in his chest. Vander still looked thin, almost fragile—but the aura around him told a very different story. This was not a man who could be controlled.

Slowly, Jared opened his mouth, his expression severe.

"What are you going to do?" he asked. "I’m guessing you intend to become king?"

He hoped—foolishly—that it would be the least of the man’s ambitions.

Vander shook his head slowly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"King? No." He moved to a chair by the window and dropped into it, staring out into the night. "But I do want to hurt Zyren in the worst possible way."

The smile vanished from his face as he spoke, his eyes darkening with a deadly focus as moonlight reflected faintly off them.

He looked completely normal from the outside.

But he knew better.

He had been locked in a cell for decades, unable to feed. Killing his mother had been a mercy—one he fully intended to grant himself after he made Zyren wish he was dead. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Clara glanced at King Jared, unease etched clearly on her face. Jared returned the look, his jaw tightening.

I hope I haven’t made a mistake I’ll come to regret.

As long as he’s useful, Jared told himself. Distracting Zyren is all that matters.

Vander poured himself more wine before finally standing. Without another word, he turned and left the room.

Neither side saw a reason to speak further.