Married To Darkness-Chapter 370: A Long Night And Away.

Sweet Jaron.

Alaric’s eyes gleamed in the dark.

Lucius tilted his head. "Where do you think he is?"

Alaric answered without hesitation.

"Caged. Just waiting for us."

And then they found him.

Jaron did not look as weak as they had expected.

For someone who had been locked away, he had clearly been feeding well. His skin was still taut with strength, his eyes sharp, and his posture far from broken.

Lucius and Alaric exchanged an amused glance before laughing under their breath.

Jaron, already alert, snapped his head up at the sound. His sharp gaze darted around the darkened dungeon. "Who’s there?" he demanded.

Alaric leaned lazily against the bars. "Did you find the men?"

Jaron’s lips parted in confusion. "What men?"

Lucius smirked. "Wow, Jaron, you still have plans?"

Alaric let out a dramatic sigh. "You never learn."

Without another word, he gripped the iron padlock and crushed it in his bare hand, the metal groaning before snapping apart. The cell door swung open with an eerie creak.

Jaron moved to shout for the guards—

But Lucius was faster.

Before a single sound could leave his lips, a strong hand clamped around his throat, cutting off his breath.

Jaron thrashed violently, his fingers clawing at Lucius’s vice-like grip, but it was useless. The taller vampire barely exerted effort, his hold firm and unyielding.

Alaric stepped closer, his voice calm but edged with warning.

"Jaron," he drawled, "you have two options. One, you calm the hell down and listen. Two, I let Lucius snap your neck before you even get a chance to scream."

Jaron’s frantic struggling slowed as he processed the threat.

His eyes flicked from Lucius’s amused but dangerous smirk to Alaric’s cold, unwavering stare.

He swallowed hard—or at least tried to—against Lucius’s iron grip.

Lucius loosened his hold just enough for Jaron to breathe.

"Good," Alaric said, flashing a sharp, humorless smile.

"Now," Lucius murmured, tilting his head. "Let’s have a little chat, shall we?"

Alaric folded his arms, his blue eyes narrowing as he studied Jaron. "You know, I thought locking you up would make you rethink your choices, but clearly, you’re still the same pathetic bastard."

Jaron coughed as Lucius finally let go of his throat, though he still loomed close enough to grab him again in an instant.

"Just let me out," Jaron rasped.

Alaric raised a brow, his expression darkening. "And why would I do that?"

Jaron straightened, brushing dust off his ragged clothes like he was in control of this conversation. "Because I deserve to be out. Keeping me locked up is ridiculous."

Alaric let out a short, humorless laugh. "You deserve to be out? You plotted to kill me and my wife. You’d be dead already if it weren’t for the fact that we’re playing nice."

Jaron scoffed. "Then kill me already. But if you’re not going to, then let me out."

Lucius grinned, shaking his head. "You’re either incredibly stupid or just that arrogant."

Alaric tapped a finger against his jaw, his voice eerily casual. "You know, I was going to offer you an alternative. Something that would keep you breathing a little longer."

Jaron stiffened, his eyes darting between them.

Alaric continued, his voice deceptively light. "I was going to say... maybe I don’t kill you. Maybe I just ruin your family instead."

Jaron’s face twitched, but only slightly.

"I mean," Alaric mused, "you do have a family, don’t you? A wife. A mother. A brother. And what was it—two? No, three kids?"

Jaron shrugged. "So what?"

Lucius and Alaric stilled at the same time.

Alaric narrowed his eyes. "What did you just say?"

Jaron met his gaze head-on, unapologetic. "I said, so what?"

A beat of silence.

Then, Alaric took a slow step forward, his expression blank, but dangerous.

"You’re saying you don’t care?"

Jaron tilted his head, as if truly considering it. "No, I don’t. They’ll be fine."

Alaric exhaled sharply through his nose, laughing—but not out of amusement. It was the kind of laugh that preceded bloodshed.

"I knew you were selfish," Alaric murmured. "But wow."

Lucius let out a low whistle. "That’s a new level of bastard."

Alaric shook his head, disgust flickering in his eyes. "You’re not even pretending to give a damn?"

Jaron smirked. "What’s the point? If they die, they die. It’s not my problem."

Lucius’s face darkened. "You do realize your kids carry your blood, right?"

Jaron shrugged. "They’re not me. That’s all that matters."

Alaric’s fingers flexed at his sides, his patience snapping like a frayed thread. This was beyond selfishness. This was evil.

Lucius clenched his jaw, a deadly glint in his eyes. "You know... I was going to suggest we keep you locked up a little longer. Maybe make you suffer over time."

Alaric’s voice dropped lower, sharper. "But now? I think we need to reconsider our options."

Jaron frowned, shifting slightly. "What do you mean?"

Alaric smiled. A cruel, merciless smile.

Lucius echoed it.

Jaron swallowed. For the first time that night...

He felt uneasy.

And he was stupid for not having felt uneasy since they came in. It was midnight but maybe he lost track of time after being here for more than a day.

Alaric exhaled slowly, shaking his head in disgust. "You know, Jaron, there was never a version of this where you walked out of here alive."

Lucius smirked. "But maybe, just maybe, if you’d shown even a sliver of remorse, we might have at least felt a little sorry for your family."

Alaric’s cold blue eyes locked onto Jaron’s. "But now? I think they’re better off without you."

Jaron scoffed, showing not a hint of regret.

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Enough talking. Let’s end this. I’m hungry."

Jaron barely had time to react before they were there.

Right in front of him.

Fast. Ruthless. No warning.

Alaric gripped Jaron’s left wrist, Lucius the right—before Lucius’s other hand wrapped tight around his throat.

Jaron tried to gasp, but no air came. His legs kicked wildly, his body thrashing, but their grip was like iron.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears.

And then—pain.

Alaric’s fangs sank deep into one wrist.

Lucius’s into the other.

Jaron jerked violently, choking on nothing. He tried to scream, tried to shake them off, but it was useless.

The room spun. His body weakened. His vision blurred.

His thrashing slowed...

Then stopped.

The life drained from his limbs as they sucked him dry.

When they finally let go, Jaron’s cold, lifeless body slumped to the floor like a forgotten ragdoll.

Lucius wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Hmph. Barely a meal."

Alaric sighed, stretching his neck. "Still. Satisfying."

Lucius nudged Jaron’s corpse with his boot. "Guess we should let someone know we took out the trash."

Alaric smirked. "No rush. Let them find him rotting."

Lucius laughed. "Brutal."

Alaric turned toward the dungeon exit. "Come on. We’ve got a journey ahead of us."

And with that, they disappeared into the darkness, leaving Jaron exactly where he belonged—forgotten.

The air in the Wyfkeep Castle Dungeon was thick with rot and filth, the scent of human misery clinging to the damp stone walls. The torches lining the narrow halls flickered dimly, barely illuminating the dark alleyways of caged wretches and forgotten sinners.

Alaric and Lucius stepped over the bloodied remains of Jaron, their boots echoing eerily against the cold floors.

They weren’t done.

Lucius cracked his neck, his sharp gaze sweeping over the rows of cells. "Still hungry?"

Alaric smirked, licking the last traces of blood from his lips. "Not quite full, are we?"

Lucius grinned. "Well, let’s fix that."

They walked slowly, their movements smooth, effortless, like two predators stalking prey.

And prey was exactly what they found.

The first cell they stopped at contained a man who had raped over a dozen women, leaving them broken while he boasted about his conquests.

Lucius tilted his head, studying him like a puzzle piece. "You look so bold behind these bars. Tell me, did they beg?"

The man sneered. "They all wanted it in the end."

Alaric’s fingers snapped the rusty lock like it was paper.

The prisoner’s sneer vanished.

He stumbled backward. "Wait—wait, I—"

But Lucius was already on him, grabbing him by the collar, his fangs sinking into his throat.

The man screamed, but Alaric clamped a hand over his mouth, silencing him as Lucius drank deep.

His struggles weakened. His body twitched.

And then—nothing.

Lucius dropped him, licking his lips. "Tastes like a coward."

Alaric kicked the body aside. "They all do."

The next one was worse.

A man who had stabbed his own mother forty times because she nagged him too much.

Alaric opened the cell without a word.

The murderer fell to his knees, hands up. "Please, please, I can—"

Alaric grabbed him by the hair, tilted his head, and sank his fangs into his jugular.

The man shrieked.

Lucius crouched beside him, grabbed his wrist, and bit down, too.

Blood poured.

His heartbeat slowed.

His arms went limp.

And then he was gone.

Alaric wiped his mouth, glancing toward the next prisoner. A woman this time.

She sold her own daughter to slavers for a bag of silver.

The girl had been seven years old.

Lucius let out a low, dangerous chuckle. "Now, you? You deserve a special kind of hell."

The woman pressed herself against the wall, trembling. "I—I needed the money! I had no choice!"

"No choice?" Alaric repeated, his voice mocking.

Lucius sneered. "You had many choices. You chose silver over flesh and blood."

The woman opened her mouth to scream—

But Lucius grabbed her jaw, forcing it shut.

He bit deep into her neck.

Her eyes bulged.

Alaric took the other side, fangs piercing her soft flesh.

She thrashed.

She struggled.

Then, stillness.

They let her body drop.

Lucius exhaled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I feel like we should have made her suffer longer."

Alaric shrugged. "She got what she deserved."

And so they continued.

Seven monsters.

Seven cages emptied.

The guilty purged.

By the time they finished, the dungeon smelled only of old stone, rusted iron, and death.

Lucius leaned against a wall, patting his stomach. "Now, now I’m full."

Alaric stretched his arms over his head, satisfied. "See? This is why I like feeding here."

Lucius grinned, stepping over a corpse. "Because we can suck them dry?"

Alaric smirked. "Because it makes the world just a little cleaner."

They walked out, leaving behind a silent, lifeless prison.

By dawn, the guards would find the bodies.

But by then, Alaric and Lucius would be long gone.

After leaving the dungeon in silence, Alaric and Lucius walked through the empty halls of the castle. The scent of blood and dust still clung to them, but neither of them seemed to care. Their hunger had been sated, but they weren’t done preparing.

Their next stop was the armory.

A grand hall filled with rows of polished weapons, racks of swords, and glass cases containing rare artifacts. The air smelled of oiled steel and aged leather.

Lucius ran his fingers along the blades, humming. "So, which one?"

Alaric picked up a long, black-hilted sword, testing its weight in his hand before setting it down. "Nothing too fancy. We’re not riding into war."

Lucius arched a brow. "Then why not bring the Grand Sword?"

Alaric chuckled, shaking his head. "Because this journey isn’t that serious."

Lucius scoffed, crossing his arms. "You say that now, but we always end up in something serious."

Alaric smirked. "True, but I’m still sure."

He reached for a sleek silver longsword, its edges razor-sharp, with an intricate engraving along the blade. He gave it a slow swing, satisfied with the balance. "This one will do."

Lucius picked up a broadsword with a deep red pommel. "Fine. If we die because you wanted to travel light, I’m haunting you."

Alaric chuckled, strapping his sword to his belt. "I’d expect nothing less."

With their weapons chosen, they headed back to their chambers.

When they entered, the warm glow of the setting sun filtered through the windows.

Salviana was sitting on the edge of the bed, stretching lazily, while Jean was still eating.

Jean looked up with a mouth full. "Did you guys—" she swallowed. "—bathe in blood or something? You stink of death."

Lucius smirked. "Something like that."

Alaric asked, "Why aren’t you both sleeping?"

"We couldn’t," Salviana replied.

"I see,"

Salviana wrinkled her nose. "You two are disgusting. Go bathe before I kick you out."

Alaric sighed dramatically. "We walk in, and this is the first thing we hear?"

Jean snorted. "She’s right, though. You reek."

Alaric shook his head and grabbed Lucius by the shoulder. "Come on, let’s not scare the ladies."

Lucius laughed. "You’re the one who always terrifies Salviana."

Salviana huffed, rolling her eyes. "Only because he enjoys it."

Alaric winked. "You know me so well."

The two vamps then left.

They stripped down and stepped into the large bathing chamber. The hot water was steaming, infused with scents of cedarwood and bergamot.

Lucius leaned against the edge of the tub, closing his eyes. "If I didn’t know better, I’d say this trip feels like a vacation."

Alaric chuckled, submerging himself under the water before surfacing again, his golden hair dripping. "Enjoy it while it lasts. You know it never stays peaceful."

Lucius sighed. "True."

The two bathed quickly, scrubbing away the blood and filth before stepping out and drying off. They changed into their travel attire—dark, practical, and lightweight.

As the last light of the sun vanished beyond the horizon, the group gathered.

The maids—Emma, Thalia, and Sarah—stood by, waiting to see them off.

"Are you sure we can’t come?" Thalia asked, a little hopeful.

Salviana frowned. "It’s a long, dangerous trip. Alaric said no."

Jean nodded quickly. "And I agree! I don’t want to be responsible for you three if anything happens."

Emma sighed, clasping her hands. "Fine, but we’ll miss you all."

"We’ll be back soon," Salviana assured them.

"When exactly are you leaving?" Sarah asked.

Alaric glanced at the sky, where the last traces of light were fading. "Right before dusk."

Lucius rolled his shoulders. "Good timing. The night belongs to us, after all."

Jean grinned. "That’s the most vampire thing you’ve said all day."

Lucius smirked. "I aim to please."

With that, they gathered their things, fastened their weapons, and stepped out into the cool embrace of the darkened world.

Their journey had begun.