We passed the main hall, turned right, went down the narrow staircase that led below the manor. I had never been this deep into the house. The walls were stone down here. Cold. Silent. The air was thick.
Jude unlocked a heavy black door with an old key. It creaked open slowly.
Inside, it looked like a ritual chamber. Candles flickered in rows on metal holders. The stone walls were marked with symbols I couldn’t read. A single chair sat in the center. Dark wood. High back. Velvet cushion. It looked more like a throne.
He walked to the chair and turned slowly. His eyes glowed slightly now.
“Take off your shirt.”
I hesitated.
He didn’t repeat himself. He didn’t need to.
Raymond’s POVIt’s really been a long time,” the old woman said, her voice soft, brittle like autumn leaves. Her wrinkled hand reached out to touch my arm as I passed, and I froze mid-step.I turned slowly.She was sitting on her usual wooden stool outside her tiny shop, just beside the narrow bend of the main road in our countryside town. The sun had started to dip low, spilling gold across the cracked pavement and the rusted sign that said: “Ora’s Corner: Fruits & Stuff.”I blinked.“Ora?”She smiled, and the years melted away in her eyes.“Well, if it ain’t my favorite runaway boy,” she said with a slow chuckle. “You still look too skinny, Raymond. What’re they feeding you in the city, air sandwiches?”My lips parted, but for a second, I couldn’t speak. I hadn’t heard anyone say my name with that much affection i
Jude’s POVI watched Selene disappear through the double doors of the gallery like smoke in moonlight. Her heels clicked once on the marble, then silence. The night swallowed her whole. I didn’t move for a few seconds. Didn’t blink. Just watched the door long after it had closed, eyes narrowed, jaw tight.I needed answers.I turned from the gallery’s shadow-stained lobby and walked into the night, my boots meeting wet pavement with purpose. The city had grown colder since sunset. My coat caught the wind, black fabric trailing behind me like a second shadow.My Bugatti sat at the far end of the block, parked where streetlamps barely touched it. Custom matte black finish. Reinforced windows. Magic-proof. Runed tires.I slid into the driver’s seat and closed the door with a dull, satisfying thunk.Silence.Just me and the hum of something shifting in the dark.I leaned back, exhaled, and
Jude’s POVSelene took a step back from the painting, her eyes still fixed on the blood-red canvas like it whispered only to her. Her hands folded behind her back, fingers twitching beneath her velvet sleeves.“This gallery is quaint,” she said after a long silence. “Very human. Smells like varnish and regret.”I didn’t answer. I was too busy reading her.She was calm. Too calm.That was never a good sign.Selene didn’t just wander. She moved like a queen in a game no one else could see. Every step was strategy. Every word a seed.So I waited.And finally, she gave it to me.“I want to see your world, Jude.”I narrowed my eyes. “You're already in it.”“Not the gallery,” she said, turning to face me. “Not the coffee-stained sidewalks and crumbling alleys. I want to see what you’ve built.”&ldq
Raymond’s POVI needed air.Not the kind that tasted like blood and smoke. Not the kind soaked in magic and war.Just... air.So I left the manor. Left Raymond pacing upstairs, lost in his own fear. Left the tension behind me like a second skin I couldn’t wait to shed.The city was thick with twilight by the time I walked the streets alone. No guards. No shadows clinging to my coat. Just me. Disguised. Low profile.I wore black from neck to heel, a wool trench over my frame, hood pulled halfway down. No one looked twice. They never did. Not unless I wanted them to.I wandered until my steps led me to a narrow building tucked between a flower shop and an abandoned hotel. Tall, whitewashed walls. A single brass sign hung crooked above the door: Gallery Nocturne.I remembered it. From years ago. A place where forgotten artists hung haunted portraits and sculpted things that only made sense after dark.
Raymond’s POVI hadn’t been outside in days.Jude had kept me locked in the manor since the last... incident. After I passed out. After I whispered his true name. After everything went quiet—and too loud—all at once.He said it was for my safety.He said the walls were safer than the world.But walls can turn into cages. And I wasn’t built for cages.So I left.I waited until the evening, when the shadows were long and the air had a bite to it. Jude had gone to the east wing, probably studying scrolls or brooding in one of his fire-lit rooms.I took the key he didn’t know I had. Slipped past the reinforced door. Walked out the front gate before the guards could notice.Freedom smelled like street air. Like exhaust. Like perfume and cheap coffee and hot pavement.God, I missed it.I walked through downtown, hood up, jacket zipped. Hands in pockets. Head low.
Jude’s POVThe room was still in ruins.Broken glass littered the stone floor. The heavy curtains hung half-torn. Books smoldered in the corners, their pages blackening to ash. I stood in the center, motionless, the fire in my blood slowly starting to cool—but never going out.That was when I saw it.Half-buried under a splintered chair, glinting beneath the debris, was a metal object. Small. Old. Familiar.I moved toward it, knelt, and brushed aside the dust.A medallion.The insignia of the High Blood Court. The sigil of Calix.My father’s mark.And mine—once.The moment I touched it, something inside me cracked.The room spun.And the memories pulled me under.I was a child again.Not a human child.A vampire heir. Born of cursed blood. Raised in a palace carved from black stone and screams.Velthas. The capital of the old realm.Our