The Vampire Prince's Blindfolded Bride
Chapter 349: Your mind games

Chapter 349: Your mind games

Alaric’s voice was firm but edged with concern as he turned to Izaak. "He won’t listen. Let him do what he needs to," he insisted, understanding the resolve burning within Magnus.

Magnus tightened his grip around Damien’s throat, his eyes filled with cold fury. Damien, despite his weakening state, forced a smirk, though his struggle to break free was evident.

"Magnus, you really don’t want to dirty your hands with my blood, do you?" Damien wheezed, trying to inject a note of fearlessness into his voice.

Magnus’s expression remained unmoved, his tone low and lethal. "Your mind games won’t work on me, Damien. The day I found my aunt dead under mysterious circumstances, I swore I’d kill the one responsible with my own hands. You should have been smarter in your pursuit of victory," he snarled, his grip tightening further.

Damien, realizing his helplessness, forced a bitter chuckle. "Then do it, Magnus. Kill me. But know this—you’ll never forget my face. Taking my heart out won’t be easy for someone like you. You’ve gone soft since marrying Alora," he spat out, trying to provoke Magnus with every word.

Magnus’s lips curled into a cold, merciless smile. "Do you really think I’ll give you an easy death? Where’s the satisfaction in that? You will suffer," he hissed, abruptly releasing Damien’s neck. Damien slumped against the wall, gasping for air, but his lips curled into a sinister grin as he regained his composure.

"Make sure I don’t escape, Magnus," Damien sneered, lifting his head defiantly. "Because when I do, I’ll tear out the heart of your beloved Alora." His voice dripped with malice as his eyes gleamed with malevolence.

Before Magnus could react, Izaak stepped forward, placing a calming hand on his brother’s shoulder. "That won’t happen, Damien," Izaak said, his voice steady and filled with quiet power. "Her eyes will be your undoing." His words brought a sense of calm over Magnus, who momentarily softened under the weight of Izaak’s reassurance.

Damien gritted his teeth, fury simmering beneath his gaze as the iron shackles clinked ominously around his wrists.

His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, but he was powerless as the two guardians secured the bindings, their faces stoic and unyielding.

The sound of metal against metal reverberated through the cold, stone walls of the dungeon, a prelude to the next round of torment.

With a swift, practiced motion, one of the guardians forced a goblet filled with a dark, viscous liquid to Damien’s lips. The Ashwood brew slid down his throat, burning his insides like fire. Damien’s body convulsed, and his sharp, agonized cries pierced the oppressive silence, echoing off the walls of the dank dungeon.

Magnus watched for a moment, his face a mask of indifference, before turning on his heels. Without a word, he strode toward the exit, his brothers Izaak and Alaric flanking him. The heavy metal gate creaked open, and they stepped out into the corridor, leaving the wretched sounds of Damien’s suffering behind them.

As they made their way through the path of the prison, Magnus broke the silence. "The shapeshifters we captured—they’re not from this kingdom. They hail from the Northern Kingdom," he informed his brothers, his voice as sharp and clear as a blade.

Izaak, ever the strategist, narrowed his eyes in thought. "How many of them are there?" he asked, his mind already working through the implications.

Magnus’s expression was grim. "Around a dozen," he replied. "We’ve managed to capture ten of them, but two are still out there, free. If we don’t find them soon, they could stir up more trouble than we can handle. We need to catch them before they wreak havoc."

They reached the courtyard where the sleek, black carriage awaited them. The coachman swiftly descended from his perch and opened the carriage door with a bow.

Magnus, Izaak, and Alaric entered the carriage. As the door closed behind them with a solid click, the carriage lurched forward, the horses setting off at a brisk pace.

Magnus leaned back against the cushioned seat, his gaze distant but determined. "We’ll need to act fast," he said, breaking the silence once more. "We can’t afford to let those two escape our grasp."

Alaric nodded and said, "We’ll split our forces. We can cover more ground that way."

Izaak crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful yet resolute. "We’ll find them, Magnus," Izaak said with unwavering confidence, his eyes locking onto his brother’s. After a brief pause, his expression shifted to one of inquiry. "But could you read Damien’s mind this time? Can you get a sense of where they might be hiding?"

Magnus hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing as he recalled the fragmented and chaotic thoughts he had glimpsed in Damien’s mind.

"They’re hiding among the werewolf packs," he began, his voice steady but laced with frustration. "But I couldn’t discern which one. His thoughts were deliberately clouded, layered with deception. What I can assure you, though, is that they are still within this capital. They won’t risk leaving, not while their primary task remains incomplete."

Izaak and Alaric listened intently, their expressions darkening as the gravity of the situation settled over them. Magnus continued, his tone resolute, "Their mission is clear—they’re here to rescue Damien, and they’ll stop at nothing to accomplish that. We can’t afford to let our guard down, not for a moment."

Alaric leaned forward as his mind already working through the necessary precautions. "Then we need to bolster our defenses immediately. Double the guards at every entrance and post sentries at strategic points around the dungeon. No one goes in or out without our explicit permission."

"I’ll talk to the Werewolves Elders. They will cooperate us," Izaak said with a determined gaze.

"Hmm. If the shapeshifters aren’t caught early, they may become a threat for us later," Magnus stated.

"We understand. Don’t worry. We will catch them. In the packs, Alphas can easily spot the ones who don’t belong to their packs if they are informed about the moles," Izaak reminded him and told Magnus not to stress out himself.

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