Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby novel Chapter 125

Chapter 125: Transylvania

Anthony sat in his study for what felt like an eternity. His thoughts spiraled endlessly, looping over everything that had just occurred. The encounter defied all logic. A man had entered his heavily guarded home, appeared in his private study without a single sound, conversed with him as though they were old acquaintances, and then simply vanished... right in front of his eyes. No doors opened, no shadows shifted. He was just... gone.

His heart pounded as he leaned back in his chair. He had heard whispers before... which he treated as rumors, about individuals with supernatural abilities. But that realm had always been in the special domain buried in the classified corners of MI5 or MI6 where even the highest ranking officials rarely permitted to venture.

Others treated this kind of story like fictions and from fantasy novels. No one liked to discuss such things seriously. They were fairy tales meant to scare children or entertain adults. Or so he had thought.

But now, after tonight, Anthony could no longer dismiss those stories as myth. That man... whoever or whatever he was... had power that Anthony could barely comprehend. It was as if someone had stepped straight out of a Marvel or DC comic book and into his study.

"If someone like that wanted to rob the vaults of the central bank, who could stop him?" Anthony thought, a cold sweat forming at his temples. "He could go anywhere undetected. It’s a miracle people with such power still choose to follow some form of order. Otherwise, the world would collapse into chaos."

Yet, what frightened him more was not the man himself... it was the person he referred to as "boss." A woman, clearly outside the sphere of traditional governments, who could command a person like that. Who was she? And how much power did she truly hold?

Worse still, his own daughter was now working for this mysterious figure. Anthony felt a chill snake down his spine. The air around him suddenly seemed colder. He wrapped his arms around himself and inhaled deeply, trying to ground himself.

But there was no turning back now. Whoever he was dealing with, whatever strange network he had stepped into, he had to follow it through. He had a daughter to care now. That fact alone gave him purpose... and he would stop at nothing to see her.

Resolving to act, he pulled out his phone and dialed the number of an old friend... a trusted ally who also happened to run a reputable genetic research center. It was late, but his friend answered after only two rings.

"Still at the lab?" Anthony asked.

"Yeah, just finishing up some paperwork," came the reply.

"I need to see you. It’s urgent."

Ten minutes later, Anthony was driving through the dimly lit streets, the box containing the mysterious blood sample tucked safely in his pocket. When he arrived, his friend greeted him with concern.

Great iron balconies curled out like spider legs, while stained obsidian windows... tinted in blood-red and violet hues... refracted moonlight into jagged patterns on the cold stone floors. Light here was scarce, yet when it did appear, it was twisted and unnatural.

Below, the ancient forest stood in unnatural silence. The trees were so old that empires had risen and fallen in their lifetimes. Silver-flecked leaves trembled in a wind they never acknowledged. Mist curled between gnarled roots like living things. The scent in the air was a heady mix of pine, damp earth, and something far more primal... an iron tang, like blood long since dried.

The entire region thrummed with a magic that felt ancient... older than language, older than kings. Not oppressive, but vigilant. Like the hush before a storm descends, the kind of quiet that makes even the bravest pause.

The castle’s main gate stood thirty feet tall, carved with the twisted faces of forgotten gods. These doors never opened without the Vampire King’s explicit will. Above them, on the tallest tower, jutted a solitary balcony... so high it nearly touched the stars. That was the king’s perch. Legends said he stood there when the world slept, eyes fixed on the horizon like a man who had lived too long to dream anymore.

Inside, in the heart of the fortress, was a vast chamber... a meeting room carved from jet-black stone. Eighteen high-backed chairs encircled a long table made of polished volcanic rock. Bioluminescent stones embedded in the ceiling glowed softly, casting an ethereal light that made the pale skin of those present appear even more ghostly.

Seated around the table were the Elders of the Vampires, the members of the High Council, the ancient lords and ladies of vampire society, each the sovereign of a powerful clan, each as old as legend itself.