The grand hall of the Werewolf Queen’s castle was engulfed in organized chaos. Piles of scrolls and reports cluttered the long oak table, city maps stretched between sealed documents and hastily written notes. At the center of it all, seated on a throne of sculpted bones, Siren maintained an impassive expression, her golden eyes scanning every detail with a calculating gaze.
The war had left deep scars on her land, but now was not the time for mourning. It was time to rebuild.
"Patrol report." Her voice echoed through the corridor, firm as tempered steel.
One of the generals, a gray-furred werewolf with scars across his face, stepped forward. "Your Majesty, the last groups of undead have been eliminated south of the city. However, we are still finding scattered remains, and traces of necromancy persist in some areas."
Siren sighed, massaging her temples. "Burn the remains. I don’t want any wandering souls lurking in my city. If there are any undead survivors, use everything at your disposal to exterminate them."
The general nodded before stepping back, making way for another wolf. This one wore slightly damaged armor, a remnant of recent battles. "Reconstruction of the eastern sector has begun, but we are short on materials. Many trade routes remain dangerous due to the war."
Siren drummed her fingers on the table. "Send hunters to patrol the routes and ensure the caravans pass safely. We cannot waste time."
The wolf bowed before stepping back, allowing another subordinate to approach.
"And the refugees?" she asked, her eyes still scanning the reports.
"The surviving civilians are being relocated to temporary shelters. However, many have lost their homes, and there isn’t enough space for everyone. We need more housing."
Siren leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Prioritize the elderly and children. Warriors can sleep under the open sky if necessary. If needed, reassign part of the army to reconstruction—I want progress."
More orders were given, one after another. The city was broken, but not defeated. As long as Siren ruled, it would rise stronger than before.
After a long period of discussions, the hall finally emptied, leaving the Werewolf Queen alone with her thoughts.
Siren stood before the massive window, her golden eyes wandering over the ruins of her city. The cold night wind blew, making her silver hair sway gently, while the moonlight bathed the devastated streets in a pale, melancholic glow. Even in ruins, the city still pulsed with life. People moved among the debris, rebuilding homes, clearing rubble, trying to move forward.
But she knew. She knew that despite her people’s resilience, there was a limit to how much they could endure.
She sighed, resting her hands on the window frame.
"Ah… I’m so tired…" her voice escaped in a whisper.
Tired of war, tired of always having to be strong, tired of making decisions that always seemed to carry the weight of an entire world on her shoulders.
"How many sleepless nights have passed? How many friends have I lost? How many more will I have to bury?"
Her chest rose and fell in a heavy rhythm, and she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to suppress the tight knot in her throat. She couldn’t waver. Not now. Her people needed her.
"Queen… leader… warrior… In the end, who am I beyond that? Just a lone wolf who must keep fighting."
But deep down, a part of her longed for rest. For a moment of peace. For a time when she wouldn’t have to carry everything alone.
Then, suddenly, she felt something. A different kind of warmth.
Strong, warm hands wrapped around her waist from behind—an unexpected touch, firm and possessive. Her body tensed, her sharpened senses screamed in alarm. She hadn’t heard anyone approach.
Her eyes widened, and in a swift motion, she turned, her hand ready to strike…
And then, she saw him. Dante.
His crimson eyes glowed under the moonlight, an arrogant smile playing on his lips. The air around him carried an overwhelming presence, an undeniable power. Even without speaking, his mere gaze seemed to pierce into her soul.
Siren’s heart skipped a beat, her expression shifting to shock. "You…?!"
"Surprised?" Dante’s smile only grew.
Siren felt her heart race as she looked at him. This wasn’t the first time he had tried to get close. It wasn’t the first time he surrounded her with that overwhelming presence, making her body tremble in a way she refused to acknowledge.
And, as always, her first reaction was to raise her hand to push him away.
But… this time, she didn’t.
Her fingers trembled slightly, hesitant, and her hand simply rested against his chest.
Solid. Warm.
She felt the steady, unshakable beat of his heart. He said nothing. He only looked at her, his crimson eyes glowing with something deeper than desire—something she wasn’t sure she was ready to face.
"Why do you keep trying?" Her voice came out softer than she intended, almost a whisper.
Dante smirked. "Do you really need to ask?"
He tilted his head, leaning in closer, his warm breath brushing against her skin. His fingers slid smoothly from her waist to her back, pulling her in, as if giving her the chance to step away.
But she didn’t.
Siren closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling his scent—a mix of power, fire, and something addicting that made her inner wolf shudder.
"I’ve always pushed you away," she whispered, almost as if trying to remind herself why.
"Yes. But you never told me to stop."
Dante’s hand slid up to her face, his fingers grazing her skin with surprising gentleness. He lifted her chin slightly, forcing her to meet his gaze. His lips were so close she could feel the heat, the temptation…
And this time, Siren gave in.
She moved first—just barely—but it was all Dante needed. Their lips met in a slow, deep, and searing kiss. There was no urgency—only intensity. As if he were savoring every sensation, as if he were savoring the moment he had waited for so long.
Siren’s hands gripped his shoulders, her claws grazing his skin lightly. A shiver ran down her spine as Dante deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping around her completely, as if he wouldn’t let her escape this time.
And, for the first time, she didn’t want to.
The world around them disappeared. There was no war, no rebuilding, no duties. Only the two of them, under the moonlight, lost in each other’s heat.
When the kiss finally broke, both were breathless. Dante rested his forehead against hers, a satisfied smile on his lips.
"This time, you didn’t push me away," he murmured.
Siren closed her eyes, her face flushed, her breath unsteady.
"No… I didn’t."
And in that moment, she knew.
No matter how much she tried to deny it, her heart had already been conquered.
"So cute." Dante teased, his smug smile returning as he pulled her into an even tighter embrace, resting his chin on top of her head.
For a moment, silence settled between them. A comfortable, enveloping silence, as if the world outside didn’t exist, as if their problems could wait just a little longer.
But Siren broke the moment, her voice soft, almost hesitant.
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"Why did you come now?"
Dante let out a low chuckle, his gaze shifting toward the ruined city outside. "I came to clean up your kingdom… let’s just say I’m playing janitor."
Siren raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Janitor?"
He gestured toward the wreckage and battle scars spread across the werewolf kingdom. "You’ve been through a lot…" he murmured, his eyes analyzing every broken part of her realm.
Siren let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly against his chest. "We didn’t have enough strength… fighting alone makes things complicated."
Dante shot her a questioning look, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I thought you were one of the three strongest."
"I am." She shot back, a slight growl in her voice. But they both knew the truth.
"Werewolves struggle against immortal targets…" Dante remarked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the window. "Especially since you fight with physical energy. Not a great match against the undead."
"Exactly." Siren sighed, her golden eyes filled with frustration. "That bastard Velkan made the best warriors leave… so there aren’t many strong ones left by my side. Just me."
Dante studied her face, his expression darkening as he recalled the challenges she had faced. She carried so much weight on her shoulders…
He leaned in again, his lips brushing against the warm skin of her neck, his voice deep and teasing.
"One woman against an army…"
Siren felt a shiver run down her spine before Dante left a soft kiss there, a playful smile on his lips.
"I thought it was sexy."
She pulled back slightly, crossing her arms and pretending to look disapproving, but the color on her face betrayed her.
"You’re such an ass."
Dante laughed, pulling her close once more. "I never said I was a good man."
His gaze returned to the city. "But… I really did come to help. You don’t have to carry everything alone." Experience exclusive tales on freewebnovel
She stared at him for a moment, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. Siren wasn’t used to relying on anyone. But maybe, just this once…
She could trust him.
And deep down, she knew she already did.
AN: I was only able to change it now, I’m sorry for the inconvenience of it being in the wrong language. I will be more attentive. Sorry Sorry Sorry