Over the days, I had kept an eye on Sera. I had remembered my parents and had cried in my room. As I swore to take revenge for their deaths. My brother didn't show his sadness but whenever we had talked about old times, his eyes would soften and his hand would curl into fists, as he too swore revenge on the person who had killed them.
The wind on the palace rooftop had felt like a mockery, a gentle, cool breeze that did nothing to soothe the inferno burning beneath my skin. It had been days since the dream of vampire royalty had shattered my reality, and I was falling apart. Every time I looked at a servant, every time I caught the faint, metallic tang of their pulse, the monster inside me clawed at the surface. My nails would stretch into jagged, obsidian talons; my eyes would bleed into a sickening, luminous crimson; and my fangs would ache, begging for the very thing I refused to take. But today, the fortress crumbled.
When I reached downstairs, the guards asked, "Your highness, where are you going?"
"Just going out for fresh air," I said, forcing a small smile even though I wanted to snap his neck.
"But don't you need anyone to come alon-" he said.
"Not at all, I can go by myself, Or do you wish to question Northern royalty?" i interrupted him gently.
"Not at all, your highness." he said as he bowed to me.
---------
I barely remembered the trek to the forest. By the time I reached the tree line, the world was already fracturing. The vibrant greens of the canopy were muted, filtered through that predatory, hunger-driven haze. I heard a rustle, a rabbit, shivering in the bush, and I didn't think. I lunged. My claws tore through the undergrowth, and I slammed my hands down, pinning the frantic creature beneath my grip. I was seconds away from the kill, my fangs already pricking its neck—
Snap.
The world lurched. The forest vanished, replaced by the suffocating scent of damp stone and ozone.
I was no longer in the woods. I was on my knees, wrists bound by heavy, cold iron chains that rattled with every shudder of my body. A circle of figures in obsidian cloaks loomed over me, their faces hidden in shadow. My heart hammered against my ribs, not from hunger anymore, but from sheer, unadulterated dread.
A gloved hand yanked my chains upward, forcing me to look up.
The masked man.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" I snapped, my voice cracking. The hunger still gnawed at my belly, a hollow, agonizing void, but I refused to let him see me beg.
"Shh," he hissed, the sound like dry leaves skittering on pavement. "You know what happens to little girls who are rude."
He gave the chains a violent, sharp tug. My balance shattered, and I fell forward, sprawling ignominiously at his feet.
"You're losing control over your powers," he murmured, looking down at me with profound disappointment. "Tch. Pathetic. Fenris, take the potion."
One of the cloaked figures stepped forward, disappearing into the shadows of a hidden alcove. When he returned, he held a glass vial that pulsed with a rhythmic, crimson light.
The masked man took it. "Open your mouth." He ordered me.
He didn't wait for my compliance; he pressed the cold glass against my lips, forcing my jaw open. I fought, but my body was weak, my resistance flickering out like a dying candle. He poured the liquid down my throat.
It was heaven. It was warm, thick, and tasted of life, the purest essence of human blood, refined and potent. My hunger didn't just fade; it evaporated, replaced by a terrifying, cold clarity.
"Good," he said, handing the empty vial to his servant. "That was the Potio Cibi Vampyri. A recovery draught. It sustains the blood-starved, removes the desperation, and leaves you... compliant."
He crouched, his mask inches from my face. I could feel the malice radiating from him like heat from a furnace.
"Now," he whispered, "let's get to business."
"What business?" My voice was steady now, thanks to the potion, but the dread remained, heavier than before.
"Your mission. Take this."
He pulled a dagger from beneath his cloak. The blade was a nightmare of forged darkness, swirling with black energy and etched with ancient, jagged grey markings. He held it out.
"Why?" I asked, my blood running cold.
"Take it." He commanded as his grip on my chains tightened.
I reached out, my fingers trembling as I grasped the hilt. The moment my skin touched the metal, the blade roared to life. The black energy bled into a violent, churning crimson, the two forces wrestling for dominance in the air between us.
"Good," the masked man breathed. "You remember, don't you, Eirlys? The ancient enmity. The blood-feud between the snakes and the vampires."
"Yeah," I whispered, the word tasting like ash. "I remember."
"And you remember your sister-in-law? That lovely, unsuspecting snake royalty?"
"Yeah...." I said as I sensed the atmosphere in the air shifting.
He leaned in, his voice a low, rattling promise. "She has awakened. The power is already stirring within her veins."
He gestured to the glowing, hungry dagger in my grip.
"With this, Eirlys, you are going to end her."