Chapter 79: Catching A Ghost

Words : 2084 Updated : Sep 12th, 2025

Chapter 79: Catching A Ghost Griffin~ I sat back in my chair, my mind churning. Cassandra needed to understand one thing—she couldn’t get what she wanted in Vereth without me. I had to back her into a corner, leave her no choice but to hear me out. That was the plan. It wasn’t a bad plan. If she was truly after something in Vereth, I could use that to my advantage. But getting close to her? Now, that was a whole different battle. Across from me, my father still looked like he wanted to tear something apart, but he kept his mouth shut. That silence meant he knew there was no talking me out of this. Finally, he exhaled slowly. "And if she refuses? If she decides it’s easier to tear you apart instead?" I met his gaze, my jaw tightening. "Then I’ll make sure she regrets it." A heavy pause. Then my grandfather let out a low, approving chuckle. "That’s the spirit." My wolf, Mars, rumbled his approval, a deep, satisfied growl vibrating through me. Mars had never wanted me to reject Natalie, but I ignored him, I was convinced she wasn’t worthy of me. That choice had driven a wedge between us, and Mars ended up bearing the most brunt of the agony from our shattered bond. For too long, we were at war with each other. But the moment I decided to win Natalie back, everything changed. Mars was more alive, more present than he had been in a long time. I had made him a promise—to fix what I destroyed. And I would do whatever it took to keep it. I pushed up from my chair, already working through the next steps in my head. "I’ll leave for Vereth tonight." "You’ll need someone watching your back. Your grandfather will stay on the mind link the whole time," my father muttered, rubbing his temple. "I don’t like this plan of yours, but if you’re going through with it, at least don’t be reckless." I smirked. "When am I ever reckless?" My father’s deadpan stare said everything. ******** The drive to Vereth felt like a slow descent into enemy territory. The second I crossed the border, an unnatural chill sank into my bones. On the surface, the city looked normal, but I wasn’t fooled. Vereth reeked of power—ancient, volatile, and crawling with secrets. Call it envy, call it something else, but I hated the fact that a city this powerful was under the control of Cole Lucky and his vampire partner, Sebastian Lawrence. I stayed sharp, my senses on high alert as I searched for Cassandra. She moved like a ghost, slipping in and out of places without a trace. If she’d made it here before me, things were about to get complicated. Pulling my cloak tighter, I kept my pace steady as I approached the vampire stronghold in the northern quarter. I’d parked my car a few blocks away—better to walk than risk being turned into a fireball before I even got close. The vampires here had a nasty habit of setting unfamiliar cars ablaze before checking who was inside. I wasn’t welcome here. No werewolf was. Hell, I was walking straight into a den of bloodsuckers who would rather rip my throat out than listen to a word I had to say. But I wasn’t here to make friends—I was here to set a trap. For a werewolf rogue—Cassandra. I had no choice. Natalie was slipping away, and I couldn’t let that happen. But first, I had to get Cassandra’s attention. How? By ruining her mission. I pulled my hood lower and stepped into the lowly lit underground chamber where the vampires gathered. The scent of iron hung heavy in the air, and all around me, red eyes gleamed in the darkness. A dozen vampires—maybe more—watched my every move, properly wondering if I had gum for brains. I swallowed the urge to bolt. A tall, broad-shouldered vampire stepped forward, his long white hair almost glowing under the dim light. His cruel black eyes locked onto me, fingers twitching at his sides like a predator restraining the urge to strike. "A werewolf," he sneered, his voice smooth as silk, sharp as steel. "And not just any werewolf—one foolish enough to waltz into our domain uninvited." I kept my hands visible. No sudden movements. "I’m not here to fight." A dark chuckle slithered through the room. "No? Then why shouldn’t we rip you apart just for sport?" I let a smirk tug at my lips. "Because I am Griffin Blackthorn, grandson of Henry West Blackthorn—the greatest seer in the supernatural world." I let the name settle, watching the flicker of recognition in their expressions. Everyone knew my grandfather. The seer of the great Lycan kingdom. His visions were never wrong. "I bring a message from him," I continued, my voice steady. "One that might just save your miserable undead lives." That got their attention. White-Hair narrowed his eyes. "Speak." I exhaled. "Cassandra the Vampire’s Ragnarok is coming." The room went still. A ripple of unease passed between them, quick but undeniable. "She’s coming," I repeated. "And as we speak, she’s hunting you." A vampire woman with inky black hair stepped forward, lips curling into a sharp smirk. "And why," she purred, "should we believe a dog like you is risking his life to save ours?" I let my face harden. "Because Cassandra killed my best friend and my brother—a vampire. I want revenge. And I know she’s slaughtered more of your kind than you can count. You want her head on a spike just as much as I do." Lies. But they didn’t need to know that. A murmur swept through the room. Some vampires still looked skeptical, but others exchanged wary glances. I had them thinking, at least. "Mark my words," I pressed. "She’ll come through the eastern tunnels. Fast. Efficient. Deadly as always. But if you let me help—if you prepare, set the right traps—you might just stand a chance of taking her down." The black-haired vampire tilted her head, studying me. Then she turned to the white-haired leader. "Cassandra has the backing of a powerful demon. How the hell do you think we’re supposed to stand a chance against her?" I smirked, already expecting that question. "Cassandra might have a demon’s favor, but she’s still mortal. She’s still a werewolf. And no werewolf—no matter how powerful—can withstand silver. She’ll be overconfident, reckless. She won’t expect you to be ready for her." I let the words sink in. "If we hit her with enough silver, not even her demon will be able to save her." The black-haired woman turned back to White-Hair, doubt flickering in her eyes. "He could be lying." "Or he could be telling the truth," White-hair muttered. He looked back at me. "And if he is lying?" I shrugged. "Then you can kill me." Silence fell on the room. Then white-hair smiled. "Deal." ********* "Grandfather," I called through our mind link, "thankfully, the vampires are in. Everything’s being set up as we speak. When should we expect Cassandra?" "Good," he replied, his voice steady. "She should be there by midnight. Stay sharp, son." I smirked. "Always." And just like that, at the stroke of midnight, Cassandra arrived—right on schedule. This was turning out to be almost too easy. I watched from the shadows of a crumbling rooftop as she moved through the tunnels below. She was a force of nature—beautiful, ruthless, confident, untouchable. Her crimson cloak billowed behind her, and her twin daggers gleamed under the flickering lanterns. The vampires were waiting. They had rigged the tunnels with silver-lined tripwires, hidden archers, and, most importantly, poisoned projectiles designed to paralyze even the strongest of supernatural beings. The moment Cassandra crossed into the heart of their trap, the air shifted. An arrow sliced through the shadows. Cassandra moved, but not fast enough. The projectile struck her shoulder. She staggered, snarling, her eyes snapping toward the hidden archers. More arrows rained down, and though she dodged most of them with inhuman speed that wasn’t even possible for werewolves, another found its mark—this time, her thigh. I winced. That was going to hurt. The vampires descended upon her like vultures. But Cassandra wasn’t just some rogue assassin. She was a monster in her own right. I knew they wouldn’t stand a chance against her. All I wanted was for her to be weakened a bit so I could get my chance with her without being killed first. With a guttural growl, she teleported, vanishing in a blur of dark energy, reappearing several feet away. Blood trickled down her arm, her leg trembling slightly, but her face was still twisted into a vicious snarl. Then she did something unexpected. She stumbled. The poison was working. The vampires moved in for the kill. That was my cue. I leaped from my hiding place, landing just between Cassandra and the bloodsuckers. "That’s enough!" I roared. The vampires skidded to a halt. Cassandra blinked at me, dazed, her breathing uneven. "What... the hell?" I turned to her, offering a smirk. "You’re welcome." Her hand twitched toward her dagger, but the poison had sapped her strength. "You set me up," she rasped. "Guilty." Her eyes burned with fury, but she was too weak to attack. I turned back to the vampires. "You did your job. Now leave." The white-haired leader frowned. "She’s not dead yet." "She’s mine now." My voice was cold, commanding. "Walk away, and I won’t have to kill you too." There was a brief silence. Then, the vampires burst into laughter as they closed in on me. "What do you think you can do to us, dog?" the white-haired sneered. I let a smirk curl my lips, my tone dripping with confidence. Please let this work. "Have you all forgotten who my grandfather is? Did you really think I’d walk into this without knowing exactly how it would end? I know what’s going to happen tonight, and trust me—it won’t be in your favor. If you think I’m bluffing, go ahead. Make a move." Hearing that, they immediately hesitated, exchanging wary glances. Seeing that everything that had unfolded today had played out exactly as I’d predicted it would, none of them were willing to take the risk of fighting me. With a bitter hiss, the vampires backed off and I exhaled in relief. As soon as they were gone, Cassandra let out a ragged breath, her legs nearly buckling beneath her. I caught her before she collapsed, gripping her by the arm. She tried to shake me off. "Touch me again, and I’ll carve out your ribs." I chuckled. "Not in your current state, you won’t." She glared up at me, her green eyes burning with barely restrained rage. "What do you want, mutt?" I smiled. "It’s Blackthorn, not mutt, and, I need your help." Her laugh was sharp, cruel. "You set a trap for me, nearly get me killed, and now you want my help?" I tightened my grip on her arm. "I just saved your life." She bared her teeth. "You almost got me killed." "Details," I said airily. "The point is, you’re alive, and now you owe me." She went still. I leaned in slightly. "I have something you need, Cassandra. And I’m willing to give it to you—for a price." She let out a slow breath. "And what exactly do you think I need?" "Vampire blood. Not just any kind—something rare. Not the garbage you just fought." My grandfather told me to say that. I had no clue where to find a Vampire like that, but this was my grandfather we were talking about. If he said it existed, I believed him without question. Her pupils dilated ever so slightly. I smirked. Gotcha. "I can make your job easier. I can get you that rarest of vampire blood," I continued, my voice smooth. "It’s exact location. But in exchange, I need something from you." Her jaw clenched. "What?" I let the silence stretch, let her feel the weight of her vulnerability. Then I said the words that would change everything. "I need you to keep a werewolf named Cole Lucky and also Mist, The Wolf Spirit, busy." Her lips parted slightly, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes. "You want me to go after Mist? The Mist?" I nodded. She let out a low, dangerous chuckle. "Mutt, you are insane." I grinned. "So, do we have a deal?"

Chapter 79: Catching A Ghost

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