Marry to Alpha or Vampire?

Darkmoon City’s underground fighting arena had always been a mysterious and terrifying place. The arena was a favorite entertainment venue for higher-ranked vampires and wizards. In Darkmoon City, impoverished humans would sell themselves to vampires or wizards for money. These vampires or wizards would treat them as slaves and send them to the fighting arena. Winners among the slaves would be rewarded, while losers could become food or sacrifices.

Of course, not only humans participated in these matches. Lower-level vampires, werewolves, and hybrids, most of them from humble backgrounds, also took part.

Cyril and Hazel followed Claud into the stone gate, where they heard chants.

“Take it down! Take it down!”

“Kid, kill that wolf!”

“Kill it, kill it, kill it!”

“Kid, get up, rush at that wolf, break its teeth, chop off its limbs!”

As their footsteps settled, a bloody scent filled the air. Subsequently, rough roars and shouts intertwined, with the audience yelling and screaming. Numerous voices echoed from different people.

In the center of the arena stood a man and a wolf. The man’s clothing was reduced to tatters, as if he had just walked out of a pool of blood, with no intact part visible. On the other side stood a wolf, one of its eyes also injured, its massive head covered in scars.

Cyril and Hazel approached a table near the ring and sat down. Hazel watched as the wolf suddenly bumped into the man, slamming him into the railing, and she could almost hear the sound of bones breaking. However, nobody cared about the man’s injuries. They cheered, insulted, hoping the man could stand up and defeat the wolf.

The human, covered in blood, crawled up from the ground, seemingly turning the tide. Like a crazed beast, he pounced on the wolf, tearing at its limbs wildly. In his hands was a long axe, but his attacks lacked any skill; it was just basic survival instincts driving him to use the most primitive techniques: push, pull, bite, kick-anything that could serve as an attack. Blood gushed from the wolf’s head, its single eye gleaming with a blood-red light, fixed on the madman in front of it.

In the next moment, seizing the opening in the attack, the wolf opened its jaws, violently tearing off the madman’s head. It then let out a series of wolf howls, and the people below cheered for the victorious fighter.

Seeing this brutal scene, Hazel felt a wave of unease. While werewolves enjoyed violence, Hazel’s inner self was kind and beautiful. She didn’t want to witness this ugly hunting scene for entertainment.

Her gaze shifted from the stage to the audience, and she vaguely spotted two familiar figures: Hawthorne and Putnam. They were surprisingly placing bets in the audience.

From their satisfied smiles, it was evident that they had bet on the wolf’s victory.

Wolf’s victory?

Hazel’s stomach churned suddenly, unable to fathom that Putnam could be so cruel. As the Alpha of the pack, he allowed his members to be deeply involved in this heartless brawl.

Hazel felt intense disgust towards her ex-boyfriend, especially since he was now associating with vampires. His attempts to please Hawthorne made him look like a downright lapdog.

“Yo, I wondered why I kept smelling a familiar scent. So, you guys are here too,” remarked Putnam.

Putnam’s gaze met Hazel’s as he and Hawthorne gradually approached them. Hawthorne, with his black hair pulled back into a low ponytail, playful glint in his heterochromatic eyes, and a black suit accentuating every curve, irresistibly captivated Hazel.

“Welcome to the fallen paradise,” Hawthorne quipped, as if he were very familiar with the place.

Cyril remained indifferent, his eyes aloof. He restrained his anger, simply scanning the two individuals before him.

“My little brother’s performance was quite impressive, don’t you think? Seeing him in that near-death state, I feel so sorry for him. Hahaha…” Putnam, influenced by the scent of blood, was in high spirits.

From Putnam’s words, Hazel learned that the heavily injured wolf was his half-brother Rex, a former Alpha in his Pack. Hazel couldn’t believe Putnam could be so ruthless as to send his own brother into the arena.

“Putnam, you sicko!”

“Do you know why we’re here?”

“Release my companions immediately.”

Hazel’s voice was steady and powerful, adjusting her emotions, sounding more forceful than usual, but her heart was filled with anxiety.

Ever since Hawthorne’s mark on Hazel had healed, she found herself consciously or subconsciously yearning for him.

“We’re just here for entertainment. Fighting is just a part of it.”

“Or perhaps you want to make a deal with us?”

Hawthorne shrugged, a mischievous gleam in his heterochromatic eyes. He leaned forward, whispering near Hazel’s ear.

Seeing this, Cyril’s anger kept building up, but he struggled to suppress it. His eyes were bloodshot.

“What do you want to do?”

Hawthorne, noticing Hazel’s excitement, showed a cunning smile.

“You can’t treat our kind like this!” Hazel growled lowly at Putnam, filled with disgust.

“Our kind? Quite amusing coming from a Hybrid like you,” Putnam raised an eyebrow. “But, games are only fun with participants. Do you want to save him?” Putnam seemed to think of a new way to play, his eyes suddenly filled with excitement.

Hazel looked up to the stage, where the battered wolf shifted back to human form. His eyes were sunken due to the beating, lying shivering in a pool of blood.Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

Tears welled up in Hazel’s eyes. She couldn’t accept seeing her kind in such a state. She glanced at Cyril with determination, and he seemed to understand her thoughts.

“Yes, we want to save our companions, including Rex.”

“Then, let’s have an entertaining two-player game,” Putnam grinned.

“Ready whenever you are!” Cyril’s golden eyes narrowed in impatience as he looked at the sycophantic dog before him.

Hawthorne snapped his fingers, and several tall vampires appeared on the stage. They surrounded the defeated human, each biting into the remaining torso, draining him of his blood.

The human’s body turned into something resembling a wrinkled piece of jerky, then was discarded into a trash bin beside the stage.

Hazel took a sharp breath. She couldn’t fathom that the trash bin held the remains of recycled bodies.

The towering vampires cleared the stage, but they didn’t remove Rex.

Subsequently, they opened the stone door beside the stage, pushing out two iron cages.

One cage held two unruly Hybrids. Their long hair flowed freely, their faces delicate, hands and feet bound by iron chains. Their bloodthirsty eyes revealed desire.

In the other cage, a man with once-golden hair, now lacking its original luster, with silvery-gray eyes showing signs of exhaustion.

This man turned out to be Elmer!