Chapter 372 Run, little wolf!
The current world was naturally governed by those fully aware of their own strength. Being weak was not an option—it never had been. Yet, after years of overcoming and feeling powerful before lesser beings, Alexander's sense of strength was now entirely shattered.
He was running as if hell itself was at his heels.
His footsteps echoed in the dark alleys of the Demi-human Kingdom, every breath heavy and ragged, mixed with the distant but ever-approaching sound of the woman's steps behind him.
'It can't be… she's still here…' he thought in desperation. 'I need to disappear!'
His eyes scanned the alleys for an escape, but the city seemed distorted, as if the streets had shaped themselves into a labyrinth, forcing him in endless circles.
Adrenaline pumped, and every muscle in his body screamed as he tried to keep a lead on his pursuer.
He knew he had to escape; if he didn't… it would be his end.
So many thoughts flooded his mind—how had it come to this, really? Life had been so much simpler before. Yet now, a single event haunted him relentlessly as he pushed himself to keep going.
He had thought eliminating Dante Scarlet was the way to rid himself of a potential threat that, one day, could turn against the world and his own empire. But who could have imagined this scenario? Ten years after his death, Dante had returned, seeking vengeance with a hunger impossible to satiate.
Dante was back, and with him came the promise to hunt down those involved in that bitter incident, doing exactly that.
Alexander had fled the Werewolf Kingdom straight to the Demi-human Kingdom, figuring it was the best place to hide, forge new alliances, and find refuge—especially without his former rank as General.
But now, hearing the cold, relentless breathing of his pursuer, he realized fate would not be so merciful.
The woman hunting him was far from ordinary. Her dark eyes were as deep as an immeasurable void, her sharp, sadistic teeth forming a smile that chilled him more than anything else.
Alexander turned right into a narrow alley, nearly tripping on the uneven stones below.
He stole a quick glance back, catching a glimpse of the woman's figure. Her maid uniform, once innocent, looked like a sinister costume on her.
'Shit!!' She didn't slow, moving with an almost inhuman precision, as if gliding through the shadowed alleys.
There was no hesitation in her movements—only the certainty that, in the end, she would catch him.
Every time Alexander thought he'd gained some distance, that he'd put a few precious meters between them, he felt the weight of her gaze on his back, a reminder that the chase was far from over.
His mind raced as fast as his legs, revisiting the past in a hazy stream of fleeting memories.
"Why… why did I do this?" he murmured, his breath shallow and labored. He remembered what he had once considered a perfect resolution—the moment Dante was killed, when he believed all his problems had vanished.
What a brutal mistake.
The cold, cruel night seemed to close in around him.
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The alleys narrowed, each wall closer than the last, until he found himself taking a path that led to a dead end.
He felt his heart pounding like a drum, blood hammering in his head as he tried, desperately, to find a new route.
But the passages ahead merged into a confusion of darkness and cold stone walls, and soon the certainty that he was lost became unbearable.
He was sinking into despair and fear.
A wave of panic rose in his throat, urging him to scream, but he held it back. The woman was so close now that he could hear the swish of her dress hem, the unnerving sound of her steady, purposeful footsteps. He sped up, forcing his body onward, ignoring the aches and fatigue. His vision began to blur, the adrenaline warping his perception into a haze of pale colors and threatening shadows.
The chase seemed endless, each second gnawing away at his sense of control. "Could he have sent her? Is he… is he doing this personally? Why hasn't he appeared yet?" The questions swirled through his mind, a spiral of fear and uncertainty.
But the answer was right behind him, in the woman who would not stop until she'd achieved her goal.
"Pff…" Then, he heard her laughter. Low, husky, filled with cruelty, it echoed against the narrow alley walls. His heart raced even faster, if that were possible. Something in that laugh made him feel naked and exposed, as if all his flaws and sins were laid bare in that morbid sound.
Finally, Alexander spotted a small opening to his left. He threw himself toward it, his body exhausted, his heart pounding wildly. The passage led him to an even narrower street, cluttered with debris and refuse. He slipped, nearly fell, but managed to regain his balance and pushed on.
Sweat dripped down his forehead as his lungs burned. His thoughts grew muddled, his mind replaying the only phrase he needed to hear: "Keep running, don't stop."
Yet the world seemed to conspire against him. Each turn led to another wall; every alley left him more lost. Her footsteps grew ever closer, and now he could swear he felt the cold air emanating from her presence. He stumbled, swayed, and collapsed to his knees on the stone ground. His hands and knees were scraped and bleeding, but he knew he couldn't stop.
Alexander tried to stand, but before he could, he saw her shadow cast on the wall in front of him. She was right behind him, her black eyes gleaming, a cold smile on her lips. He held his breath, frozen in terror. She walked toward him, each step calculated, unhurried, like a predator finally cornering its prey.
"You thought you could escape me, Alexander?" she whispered, her voice like the hiss of a serpent. Alexander swallowed hard, every fiber of his being dominated by fear.
He tried to drag himself backward, but she reached out and gripped his throat with disturbing ease. Alexander felt her fingers press against his skin as if they could pierce his flesh with the same ease one might open a door. She lifted him into the air, and he struggled desperately against the crushing force that immobilized him.
"You ran… so far," she said, her cruel smile growing more intense as she watched his despair. "But it's pointless, Alexander. You were dead the moment you tried to kill my lovely, darling Dante."
He tried to speak, to beg, but the grip around his throat choked any sound before it could escape. His wide eyes met hers, and he realized there was no mercy or hesitation there. Those black eyes were wells of emptiness, and he knew that any words would be useless.
She tilted her head, studying him as if he were nothing more than an insignificant insect. "Now, you'll pay for what you did. And I'll make sure your death is exactly as he would have wanted."
The pressure on his throat tightened, and Alexander felt the world beginning to darken. He was at the brink of death, and each passing second was a bitter reminder of his mistakes.
In that final moment, he knew everything was lost, that there was no escape.
He lost consciousness and crumpled to the ground as the woman released him.
The woman smiled, a dark and satisfied smile.
"You're not dead," she murmured, her tone dripping with contempt. "Not yet, anyway." Then, she reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a small silver orb, etched with glowing runes that pulsed lightly in her hand.
The woman pressed a button on the sphere's surface and raised it to her lips. "Target captured," she announced, her voice cold and composed.
A brief silence followed, and then a deep, imposing voice resonated from the other end of the communication. "Good job, Evangeline," Dante said, his tone a mix of authority and satisfaction. "Bring that worm here. I want to see his face when he wakes up."
Evangeline smiled once more, a sadistic glint in her eyes, and stowed the orb away. She seized Alexander by the collar, dragging him along like a sack of garbage.
As she pulled Alexander through the dark alleys, a wicked smile crept onto her lips, her thoughts boiling with uncontrollable desire. "I hope my master rewards me... generously," she murmured, her voice thick with anticipation. "The thought of being graced by him... feeling his touch overwhelming me…" A shiver ran down her spine at the imagined scenario.
"If he asks what I desire as a reward, I'll be bold," she whispered, her eyes shining. "How could I let a man like him slip away? I want to feel his virility penetrating me brutally, filling me up, his body connected to mine…" Evangeline bit her lip, her body responding to her own longing. Just the idea of what might happen left her in a state of burning yearning, her legs trembling slightly. "Ah... just thinking about it... I'm completely soaked…"
She chuckled softly at the imagined scene: him, with that penetrating gaze and rough voice, asking what reward she would desire, offering her anything. "Oh, how delicious it would be to have the master inside me…" she thought, nearly losing herself in daydreams.
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