Vincent's sudden power-up vanished after they escaped from the life and death situation they were in. His body was exhausted, and he was forced to transform back into his human form. Fortunately, they had already run quite a distance before he ran out of gas.

"Damn, my body hurts," he groaned in pain as he lay on the ground, trying to catch his breath.

Debbie saw the pained expression on his face and tried to massage his sore muscles to alleviate some of the pain.

"We're lucky to be alive," she said, her voice full of relief.

"You're right " he chuckled and lay on the ground, his body aching with pain. As he caught his breath, he couldn't help but reflect on his mental state during his werewolf transformation. He felt a wild, almost primal energy surging through his veins, causing him to act impulsively and without restraint.

He knew that he needed to gain better control over his emotions, especially as the full moon drew near. If he couldn't , he feared he would become a danger not only to himself but to those around him.

"I'm going to take a nap " he closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, trying to calm the storm within him. He knew that he needed to learn to channel his energy and use it for good, rather than letting it control him.

But for now, he needed rest. He allowed himself to sink into the ground, feeling the cool earth beneath him as he drifted into a deep sleep.

***

***

***

"Wake up, my beloved," a gentle voice roused him from slumber.

"Have we arrived?" he inquired with a bored expression.

"Not yet, but we have reached the city from where we shall embark on a ship to our final destination," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"A ship? You never mentioned we would have to travel by sea," he protested, his frustration apparent. Elizabeth had been dragging him across the land for weeks to a place he knew nothing about.

"I kept it from you because I knew you would react this way," she chided, shaking her head.

His desire to protest burned strong, but as he saw her determined face, he knew it was already too late.

"Isn't it perilous for you to journey by ship, Elizabeth? You cannot be exposed to sunlight for prolonged periods, lest it damages your skin," he attempted to shift the conversation while scratching his head.

"Fret not, my love. I shall slumber within my coffin during the whole journey. Moreover, I know that you will vigilantly safeguard me, so there is no need to worry," she replied, embracing him with her soft cold arms.

Fenrir was at a loss for words. She always seemed to have a response for everything, even for her limitations as a creature of the night.

He resigned himself to the situation and went along with the plan. The city they arrived in was a bustling port town, filled with the clamor of people and ships. However, their arrival was at the dead of night, and the once busy streets were now eerily quiet, save for the occasional drunkard stumbling about.

He despised the place immediately. His acute sense of smell was assaulted by the putrid stench of urine and feces that permeated the air. The lack of hygiene in the city was nothing short of appalling to him.

"I yearn for the comfort of home," he murmured to himself, his thoughts consumed with memories of Elizabeth's grand estate. The pristine cleanliness and impeccable maintenance were a stark contrast to the filth and disrepair of the city streets they now found themselves on.

He had grown accustomed to living like a king under Elizabeth's roof, indulging in any luxury he desired. She had always been diligent in ensuring that the mansion was kept to his standards, knowing how easily any unpleasant odors or disorder could put him in a foul mood.

She even had a female dryad servant to maintain the cleanliness of the land surrounding her mansion, allowing him to run freely without any concerns. The memory of his former life only made him more dissatisfied with his current situation, yearning to return to the freedom and pleasures of the past. He couldn't help but remember the time when he had played around with that sexy dryad. Elizabeth had known about his hobby of fooling around, but she didn't mind.

"I hate this place," he muttered under his breath. Although his voice was low, Elizabeth's sensitive hearing easily picked up on his words.

Thankfully, she had anticipated this situation and had provided him with a customized mask, allowing him to at least partially escape the oppressive stench of the city.

***

***

***

Fenrir and Elizabeth arrived at the port, and they remained seated in the carriage while the old coachman went to the pier office to secure a suitable vessel. Their destination was a great distance away, and they required a large and sturdy ship that could withstand the harsh conditions of the open sea.

Both of them were aware of the risks that came with this voyage. A shipwreck could mean certain death, especially for Elizabeth, who was immortal but still susceptible to the unforgiving power of the natural disasters. Despite Fenrir's potential to survive, the thought of losing her was unbearable to him, so they could not afford to take any chances with their choice of transportation.

At last, the coachman returned with news that they would be able to board a sturdy galleon ship. Elizabeth was pleased with the news and instructed them to carefully move the coffin, which she would use to rest during the journey.

Fenrir carefully lifted it and placed it down. Elizabeth then gracefully entered the coffin and lay down, preparing herself for the long journey ahead.

The coachman, with Fenrir help, then carried the coffin to the stock room of the galleon ship, which was surprisingly spacious and well-lit.

As the ship set sail, Fenrir couldn't help but feel a wave of uncertainties on this long journey.

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