Experimented Vampire,

Long ago, vampires were deemed ideal test subjects not only by witches, human mages, and wizards, but even by their own race—the vampires in higher positions.

Their rapid healing abilities, surpassing those of werewolves, and their capacity to thrive in darkness for decades without any health issues were among the reasons for this.

Not only that, but they could also survive on minimal amounts of blood, without a daily need for regular food and water.

They also would not die unless it was due to a natural cause or external factors such as poison, silver, and the like.

Certainly, the most suitable test subjects were vulnerable children. Fully matured vampires posed too great a risk, and only a handful of individuals had the ability to manage them.

But such things had been banned in vampire society, especially centuries ago. Even humans found it too cruel to experiment on children, leading the human emperor to pass a law banning vampire experiments around 200 years ago.

This also softened the great tension between the two species.

But here we are.

Augustus heard what the vampire said. He suddenly regretted having sharp hearing because now he felt unexpected pity for a vampire who might have inadvertently caused the death of his werewolf comrade.

Augustus looked at the vampire and sighed. "I will take that message to your family members."

"Rest. You will not be in pain from here onwards."

Augustus placed the cold corpse on the ground, stood up, and looked at his subordinates' worried faces.

"He passed away. Bury him in the Silver Mountain burial grounds. That place is quiet and safe."

After issuing commands, Augustus advanced. Midway through the tunnel, he halted, clenching his teeth as his eyes turned red from anger.

"The Vampire Queen has gone mad!"

"Calm down, Augustus," Alpine said in his usual calm and steady voice, trying to calm Augustus' unstable emotions.

It had been days since Alpine had spoken to him, and the familiar voice felt like a lifeline in the middle of the dark pit Augustus was sinking into. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, his indifferent, hard expression softened, a small curve forming at the corner of his lips.

"You're finally ready to talk to me, Alpine," Augustus muttered, a mix of surprise and relief in his tone.

Alpine was his wolf, who had been sulking ever since Augustus decided to reject Ivor and had not talked with him.

"Hmph!!"

Augustus sighed hearing Alpine snort. Alpine was usually reserved and calm, always helping in making pack decisions. Even when he lost control over his emotions, Alpine was like an undisturbed swallow lake, never having any ripples no matter the circumstances.

For the first time, Augustus realized just how deeply this rejection had affected not only him but also his wolf. Alpine had always been the calm one, the one who could see through the storms and offer clarity. But now, his silence had been a weight, pressing down on Augustus in ways he hadn't expected.

It was painful. It was confusing. But in that moment, as Alpine's words broke the silence, Augustus felt the first crack in the tension. It wasn't much, but it was enough. It was a sign that his wolf was still with him, still fighting beside him, despite everything that had happened.

It was only one sentence, but Augustus felt like he had gotten out of the muddy waters, pulling him deeper into darkness and despair.

Augustus sighed once again, starting to move forward.

"You're right, Alpine," Augustus muttered to himself, his anger simmering down just a touch. "I need to calm down. This isn't helping."

They continued walking, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the tunnel, but Augustus couldn't shake the words that the vampire had spoken. They looped in his mind like a broken record, gnawing at him, haunting him.

The death of that delta,

Augustus suddenly remembered that night. The petite, small figure of that boy under him, having two puffs of red blush on his face, looking meekly and cowardly with his beautiful, watery eyes, and the sparkles in those shiny blue eyes as he gazed at him, clutching a handful of bed sheets as he hovered above him.

He tightly shut his eyes as those words echoed again.

"...That delta then ruthlessly killed him and peeled off his skin layer by layer, without sparing a whole corpse!"

"I miss you, wife."

Not again.

Not like this.

He won't let that small boy die because of him. Not because of a bond that is not even made of love.

"Ivor,"

Lowell whispered, calling Ivor, who had finally woken up, having slept well amidst nightmares the whole night.

"Hmmm," Ivor replied in a hoarse and lazy voice.

"Are you feeling, okay?"

Listening to Lowell's worried tone, Ivor felt warmth.

"Don't worry, I'm fine."

Ivor sat up and stretched his stiff body from sleep.

"By the way, Ivor, it's already afternoon," Lowell said, his voice hesitant, as he shifted on his feet, glancing at Ivor, who was still lying in bed. Ivor's tousled hair was scattered across the pillow, and his eyes were half-lidded, his body slowly waking up from the long, restless sleep. Lowell could see his human was exhausted.

Ivor yawned, stretching his arms above his head, his eyes closed tightly for a moment before they fluttered open. He blinked slowly at Lowell "So?" he asked, his brow furrowed slightly in confusion.

Lowell swallowed, he hesitated before speaking again, his eyes not quite meeting Ivor's. "So, I'm saying that... that," Lowell stammered, his words trailing off.

Ivor's eyes shifted slightly, narrowing as he finally turned his head toward spirit form of white wolf in front of him, sensing the discomfort in his words. A soft sigh escaped his lips, and a small, almost teasing smile played at the corner of his mouth. He sat up slightly, leaning on his elbows, his gaze now sharp but tinged with understanding. "Are you asking about Augustus?" 

His eyes lingered on Lowell, noticing the nervous energy radiating from him.

Lowell's face flushed slightly, and he shifted his weight uneasily, unsure how to respond. His mouth parted, but no words came out for a moment, as if his heart had sunk at Ivor's directness. He glanced down at the floor, avoiding Ivor's gaze. A heavy sigh escaped him, and his shoulders slumped in worry.

Looking at Lowell in this vulnerable state, Ivor felt a sharp pang of guilt twist in his chest.

In a previous life, it had been Lowell who kept supporting him through his heartbreak, always strong and unyielding, even when Ivor was at his lowest. But in the end, his selfishness had led him to take his own life, without ever considering how deeply his actions would hurt Lowell. He had abandoned him completely, never stopping to think about the pain he had caused.

Ivor exhaled slowly, forcing the thoughts away. Now was not the time to dwell in guilt. After all, what was the point in clinging to the past? The present was what mattered to them now.

Lowell finally let out a soft breath,"

It's just... you know, after everything..." His words trailed off. He shifted uncomfortably, eyes now darting briefly to the small window, avoiding Ivor's concern gaze. "Do you think he'll come today, too?" Lowell asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid of hearing the answer.

Ivor's expression softened, and he gave a small shake of his head, eyes betraying a hint of sadness despite his calm demeanor. He knew what Lowell was really asking, and it hurt him to see his friend so vulnerable. But this was part of the journey they had to face—part of the pain that came with loving someone who might never feel the same.

The room fell into silence again.

Ivor finally spoke, "Lowell... you better be prepared."

Lowell looked up at him, confusion written across his face. "Why?" he asked, though deep down, he thought he already knew the answer.

Ivor's gaze grew distant for a moment, and his voice became low and steady as he spoke again, "Because today is the day we're going to get rejected."

As words fell both Ivor and Lowell fell silent.

The silence was suddenly broken by the sound of metal rubbing against metal and the door opening.