Marry to Alpha or Vampire?

Hazel burst out of the forest and tumbled onto the highway, narrowly avoiding a red sedan speeding towards her. Swiftly sidestepping the vehicle, she briskly walked into a nearby small town.

It was an ancient town, marked by the traces of bygone years on every building. Low, quaint structures with red walls and green tiles, rustic chimneys clumsily stood atop roofs, and mist meandered through the streets. Dim lights emanated from windows on both sides, casting an enigmatic shadow over the entire town.This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Hazel reached the town’s streets as dusk settled in. The rare hues of twilight illuminated the entire block, but Hazel, with her mind preoccupied, paid little attention to the flamboyant sunset piercing through the chilly streets. Dizzy and almost swaying, her lower abdomen still ached from the injury. Hazel walked slowly, intending to find a comfortable inn to tend to her wounds before making any further plans. She had left the wolf pack, and her situation was fraught with danger.

However, Hazel’s hungry instincts posed an even greater danger to any passerby on the streets. After all, this was a place of human habitation. Both vampires and werewolves were lethal beasts to ordinary humans.

Hazel felt she couldn’t linger on the streets for long, as the air was saturated with an unbearable amount of fresh blood. Her vampire blood had fully awakened, and the erupting primal instincts still made her ferocious. Despite her efforts to restrain herself, she was unsure how to control these powers; her mind was filled with confusion.

“I hope these humans leave my sight soon,” Hazel murmured. “Go away… No, don’t go away… I want blood.”

As people saw the pale-faced Hazel approaching, they instinctively avoided her but stared curiously, like encountering a fresh and exotic creature. Hazel was gazed upon by eyes of different colors, and their flowing veins emitted an enticing sweetness, stimulating Hazel’s senses. When the scent reached her brain, she felt disoriented, her face twitched, and she struggled to resist the primal urge to feed.

“What am I now?” Hazel sobbed in extreme agony, seemingly desperate about her current situation.

“A vampire? Or a werewolf?” Hazel felt blurred about her identity and lineage, much like her confused consciousness.

From childhood to adulthood, Hazel grew up among the wolf people, small in stature and often ridiculed by wolf companions. But her grandmother always encouraged her, saying she would become an excellent she-wolf. Her father, more accurately, her adoptive father, Rodther, showered her with endless love, taking care of her meticulously. Rodther often trained with Hazel, engaging in wrestling, fighting, and hunting rabbits together. Hazel suddenly missed everything from those days. At that time, she could live carefreely, a joyful she-wolf living in the forest.

Hazel never imagined her lineage would be so complicated, leading her into such torment.

She detested her mother for betraying her partner and loathed her even more for never revealing anything about her heritage. Hazel’s body was tortured, almost unbearable, her mind approaching the brink of collapse. She spotted a deserted alley and decided to turn into it, allowing her tears to flow freely.

A man dressed in a black robe, akin to a black cat, lurked in the crowd. His gaze seemed ready to capture a long-lost prey, never leaving Hazel. The man trailed Hazel, hearing her every rapid breath, sensing her restraint, feeling the quick beat of her heart each time.

Just as Hazel turned the corner of an alley, the man stopped in front of her. He grabbed Hazel’s shoulder with one hand, applying enough force to make her halt.

“Follow me,” the man’s voice was deep, tempting Hazel. She unconsciously followed him towards a basement beneath the alley.

The basement was dark and damp, with a strong odor of dust reaching Hazel’s nostrils. Walls on all sides were covered with tattered cobwebs, and close to the ground, walls were covered with dense moss, giving no indication of human habitation. The most conspicuous feature in the middle of the basement was a wooden coffin. The brown wood was carved with unique medieval patterns, exuding a sense of history.

“Welcome to my resting place,” the man’s slightly red pupils flashed a hint of warmth. He slowly took off the hat of his black robe, revealing a pale face, smooth long hair, and a well-defined nose. He looked like a sculpture from a medieval church.

Hazel found the man’s face familiar, tracing his traces from her distant childhood memories.

“Are you Claud?” Hazel’s eyes filled with surprise. Despite her irregular pulse, a shaky body, her mind vividly reflected everything about this man.

Back then, Hazel stayed in Bran Castle, and Hawthorne, several years older than her, still looked like children. Claud often followed Hazel’s biological father, Azrael, and was his confidant.

Claud was powerful, appearing to be of similar age to Azrael, but vampires always retained their youthfulness. Although they had lived for hundreds of years, they still looked like humans in their mid-twenties. Azrael appreciated Claud’s loyalty, and they communicated on every detail. In life, they seemed like family.

Azrael tasked him with being Hawthorne’s teacher, instructing him in skills like hunting, manipulating minds, and more. Claud quickly imparted the essence of these skills to Hawthorne.

However, Claud was not a pureblood. His origin was humble; his parents were ordinary humans. Shifted into a vampire, his vampire talents were exceptionally strong. But Claud despised his mixed and dirty lineage, yet was obsessed with his extraordinary talents.

Hawthorne learned Claud’s teachings in just two months, progressing rapidly, showing signs of surpassing Claud. Pureblood vampires were rare, and their innate abilities and talents were incredibly strong. Witnessing all this, Claud became extremely uneasy, to the point of developing jealousy towards Hawthorne.

As a childlike Hawthorne eventually stood side by side with the king, becoming Azrael’s right-hand man, Claud could not accept it. A raging fire ignited within him, burning with hatred for everything the pureblood possessed.

At this moment, Azrael brought Hazel back. He smelled the scent of a mixed breed on Hazel.