Reincarnated Soul

Ten : Evil Intentions

CONTINUATION…

--Flashback--

"My King, I've heard rumors of a pack of werewolves lurking near our forest. It's an alpha pack, and many of our men have already fallen," one of the guards panted, breathless from his urgent run to deliver the news.

The King’s eyes hardened with determination. "If that's the case, I’ll handle them myself."

A wave of fake worry swept over me as I moved closer to him, placing my hand on his chest. "But my love, your life is too precious to us. You can’t risk it. If something happens to you… I can't imagine how we would survive without you." My voice was soft and concerned, but inside I felt nothing but cold calculation.

In truth, I knew about the werewolves long before the guard came to warn us. I was the one who orchestrated it all. The pack was no accident; I had invited them in. I had set the stage for the King’s death, and he had no idea.

You think I care about you? The thought flickered through my mind like a shadow. You’re nothing more than a stepping stone, a means to an end.

I smiled sweetly, feigning love. "Please, my King, think of us. Your life is far more important than any battle."

"I assure you, my Queen," he said, his voice steady and warm as he touched my cheek, "I will return safely."

You won’t. You won’t come back. And I won’t mourn you. The words echoed in my mind, a bitter truth. His touch, his reassurances, were nothing more than distractions. The King was a fool, blinded by his own strength and trust. I was playing him, and I reveled in the control I had over him.

I had never loved him. Not once. My marriage to him was a carefully planned move to seize the throne. I had borne his child not out of affection but for power, for leverage.

But then, as if in the final act of this twisted play, Cassandra, our daughter, stepped forward. "Father, no. Please don’t go," she pleaded, her voice trembling.

For a moment, I felt a twinge of something—guilt, perhaps. Cassandra’s love for him was so pure, so genuine. But it was fleeting. I had no intention of letting her feelings interfere with my plans.

I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight as she clung to the King. You’ll never see him again, my sweet child, I thought darkly. You’re mine now.

The King smiled at her, oblivious to the fate that awaited him. "I’ll return, Cassandra. Don’t worry."

The words were empty. They would be the last words she would ever hear from him. As he walked, I held my daughter, feeling her tremble in my arms. Her love for him would fade, and soon she would understand that her mother was the one who held the real power.

And as I watched the King disappear into the night, I felt a cold thrill run through me. Soon, with his death, I would have everything.

“We’ll wait for your father, okay? He’ll be fine,” I said to my daughter, feigning motherly concern with a practiced ease. My voice dripped with false assurance, each word laced with deceit. Acting like a devoted wife and caring mother was second nature to me by now. “Just take care of yourself out there, my King. Don’t make us worry too long.”

The words nearly made me gag.

“Yes, my Queen. Take care of our daughter while I’m away,” he replied, kissing my cheek tenderly. I allowed a soft smile and gently caressed his face, a charade of affection that sickened me.

Enjoy that kiss, my King. It will be your last.

“Guards, prepare my armor,” he commanded, his final words to me before leaving the room. I sighed, letting a small smirk curve my lips as the door closed behind him. The moment I had waited for had finally arrived.

“Go to your room now, Cassandra. I’m going to sleep,” I snapped, my tone shifting as soon as the King was out of sight.

“But it’s not that late, Mother. I still want to—”

“I said I’m going to sleep. GO TO YOUR ROOM. NOW.”

Her eyes welled with tears, but she obeyed, retreating to her chambers without another word. Her fear was delicious, almost intoxicating. As long as she feared me, she was mine to control—my perfect pawn. She was essential to my plans, but I wouldn’t hesitate to crush her spirit if it served my purpose.

Once she was gone, I turned to the guards stationed outside my door. “Leave. Ensure no one enters my room while I rest. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my Queen,” they replied in unison before retreating to their posts.

The instant I was alone, my facade dropped. I wasn’t going to sleep—I had a mission to fulfill. Walking onto the terrace, I shifted into my bat form, my wings slicing through the cool night air as I took flight. Below me, I saw the King leading his vampire army north, oblivious to the true predator stalking him.

They were searching for a pack of alpha werewolves, foolishly believing they were the real threat. They had no idea the deadliest enemy among them was me.

When they finally stopped, I saw the pack emerging from the shadows. Perfect timing. As the battle broke out, chaos erupted, and my prey was thoroughly distracted.

I landed silently in a tree, where I had hidden my bow and arrow. Werewolves might be renowned for their mastery of such weapons, but I was just as skilled—if not better. And no one knew.

I retrieved the bow and arrow, shifting back into my human form. The higher vantage point from the tree allowed me a clear view of the battlefield. The King, commanding as always, stood amidst the fray, his attention consumed by the fight.

I drew the arrow, steadying my aim. My heartbeat slowed, my breath even. This was it. My moment.

Woosh.

The arrow flew, silent and deadly.

Blag!

The King staggered, his armor clanging as he fell to his knees. A scream rose in the distance, but it wasn’t mine. I remained rooted in place, watching with a twisted satisfaction as the chaos consumed him.

He was my King no longer. Just a casualty in the path to my ultimate power.

“The King! The King has been shot!” one of the soldiers cried out, rushing to where King Hellsing’s body lay sprawled on the blood-soaked ground. Chaos erupted as the pack of wolves seized their chance, tearing through our ranks with savage precision. The battlefield became a grotesque canvas of c*****e, blood splattered across every surface.

I watched it all unfold from my vantage point, a cold smirk curling on my lips. The vampire army faltered, many falling beneath the wolves’ unrelenting fury. But even in their desperation, they fought back, clawing their way to victory.

Yet none of it mattered to me. My focus was on the King—my so-called King—lying motionless in the dirt, his lifeblood pooling beneath him.

I never miss.

The thrill of my success surged through me as I took one last look at the chaos I had orchestrated.

Satisfied, I transformed into a bat once more, my wings cutting through the night as I flew back to the kingdom.

Slipping through the terrace and into my chambers, I hurried to my bed, arranging myself to appear as though I had been fast asleep. Every detail mattered now. The news would spread like wildfire through the palace, and I had to be ready.

Hours passed. My heart raced not from fear, but from the exhilaration of knowing I had pulled it off. I lay there in mock slumber, biding my time until the inevitable knock came at my door.

Knock. Knock.

“Mother, wake up. Please, open the door,” came the trembling voice of my daughter.

I sat up slowly, allowing the feigned grogginess of sleep to cling to me as I approached the door. When I opened it, there she was—my Cassandra, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. She flung herself into my arms, clinging to me as though I were her only anchor in a sea of despair.

I held her close, my expression carefully crafted to mirror her grief, though my heart was cold. Poor child, I thought, almost amused by her ignorance.

“What’s wrong, my child? What happened?” I asked, my voice a perfect blend of concern and confusion.

Through sobs, she managed to choke out the words I had been waiting for.

“Father… Father is dead. The werewolves killed him.”

Her words hung in the air like a dark melody, and I felt a twisted satisfaction coil deep within me. She had no idea. No idea who had truly killed him.

And she never will.

--End of Flashback–

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A wicked laugh escaped my lips, echoing through the chamber. "How foolish can they be?!" I sneered, reveling in the memory. “They have no idea that I’m the one who killed King Hellsing. My stupid, blind creatures.”

I couldn’t contain the rush of satisfaction as I read through the carefully written pages of my notebook. Each word was a testament to my brilliance, to the cunning that had brought me to this moment. The entire kingdom danced to my tune, oblivious to the truth.

Closing the notebook with deliberate care, I returned it to its hiding place. This was my treasure, my truth, and it had to remain a secret. If anyone in the kingdom found out what I had done, it would mean my ruin.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

“What is it?” I barked, irritation lacing my voice. “It’s far too early to disturb me.” This was my time, my moment of indulgence, and I despised interruptions.

“Our Queen,” came a voice from behind the door, hesitant yet urgent. “I bring news about your daughter, Cassandra.”

Cassandra.

Her name felt like a distant echo. It had been so long since I concerned myself with her. I had given her space—time to heal from her so-called grief, from the blood of her lover on her hands.

Stupid girl, just like her father, I thought bitterly. She didn’t even realize her role in my grand design.

“Come in,” I commanded, sitting upright, feigning composure.

The guard entered, his presence immediately shadowed by unease. He bowed low before daring to meet my gaze. This was no ordinary report.

“Well? Speak!” I demanded, my patience already thin.

“Our Queen,” he began, carefully choosing his words. “You need to know this.”

My heart quickened—not with fear, but with intrigue. “Out with it! What happened?”

He hesitated, a flicker of fear crossing his face. And then, with a weight that seemed to darken the room, he said:

“Your daughter… our heiress… is pregnant.”

The world seemed to stop.

“WHAT?!” The word tore from my throat like a feral scream.

The room spun, and my vision blurred with rage and disbelief. Pregnant? The word echoed in my mind, each repetition more unbearable than the last.

My legs gave out, and I sank to the floor, my mind reeling.

“No… no, this can’t be,” I whispered, shaking my head as if denial could erase the truth. “Pregnant? With that mortal’s child?”

A storm of emotions raged within me—shock, fury, betrayal. This wasn’t part of the plan. This wasn’t supposed to happen. My carefully laid schemes, my vision of an unshakable reign, all threatened by this.

For the first time in years, I felt powerless, the weight of my own machinations crashing down upon me.

“Our Queen Lucinda, are you alright?”

“Yes, I am! Don’t touch me!” I snapped, my voice venomous as I recoiled from his outstretched hand.

My mind raced, each thought sharper and more damning than the last. That child… That abomination growing inside her would be the downfall of everything I had worked for. A half-vampire, half-mortal wretch—too weak to inherit the throne, too impure to wield our power. That child would be the ruin of our clan, a fracture in the foundation of our strength.

“Listen to me,” I hissed, stepping closer to the guard. I grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down to meet my eyes. “You will not speak of this to anyone. Do you understand? No one must know Cassandra is pregnant. If this leaks, it will destroy everything I’ve built!” My nails dug into his clothing, my fury barely contained.

“Yes, my Queen,” he stammered, his voice trembling under my grip.

“Now get out!” I barked, releasing him with a shove. “I’ll summon you when I need you.”

He bowed and left without another word, closing the door behind him. The silence of the room did nothing to quell the storm inside me.

I began pacing, my mind racing as the weight of their betrayal clawed at me. Their relationship bore fruit, and that fruit is a poison to me. It was an affront to my rule, a stain on my plans. No, this could not be allowed to fester.

I needed a solution. Something swift, decisive.

Minutes passed, my footsteps echoing against the cold stone floors. And then, like a dagger piercing through the haze of my thoughts, the answer came to me.

I stopped pacing, my lips curling into a cruel smile.

“That child in her womb,” I whispered, my voice dripping with malice, “must be killed.”