I never thought I could feel safe in a castle filled with shadows, with an unpredictable vampire as my only company. But as the days went by, that constant sense of danger began to shift into something else… something warm, strange, and oddly comforting. Velmira was still enigmatic, distant on the surface, yet she had begun letting me see small cracks in her armor. Cracks made of lingering silences, glances that lasted a bit too long, and a closeness I never would have imagined on the night she almost killed me.

I didn’t know that fragile calm was about to shatter.

I woke earlier than usual. Dawn barely tinted the clouds with a soft pinkish gray, and the castle remained silent. I usually stayed in my small improvised room until I heard Velmira move somewhere in the distance, but that morning something pushed me out of bed—a tightness in my chest I could only describe as a premonition.

I dressed with the clothes I’d left hanging by the screen and combed my hair with my fingers, though it always seemed to have a will of its own: messy, wild, and stubborn. Then I stepped into the hallway, expecting to hear the soft echo of elegant footsteps at the far end.

Instead, I heard something else. Something foreign to the castle: a rough crunch, like someone stepping on damp gravel.

I froze, holding my breath.

Someone else was there.

“Vel…” I tried calling her, but my voice came out too low. I cleared my throat. “Velmira.”

No answer.

My steps led me toward the main hall, where I noticed the castle door slightly open. That alone was alarming; Velmira never left anything exposed, especially not in the morning, when her strength waned slightly under the light of the outside world. Not that sunlight weakened her dramatically, but she preferred shadows.

I approached slowly, every fiber of my body urging me to turn back. When I reached the stone archway, I saw a man standing in the doorway. He was tall—taller than Velmira—with long, sleek black hair cascading down his back. His skin had the same marble-like tone as hers, but his smile—if it could even be called a smile—was dry and sharp, like a blade.

“Interesting…” he murmured, eyes fixed on me. “I didn’t expect to find a… snack in this place. Velmira always kept her domain so well guarded.”

I stepped back, my throat dry. I knew he wasn’t human. Everything about him screamed it: the unnerving stillness, the gaze that pierced straight through my skin as if searching for my pulse, and the way dawn’s light seemed to avoid him more than illuminate him.

“Who… who are you?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my effort to sound firm.

He tilted his head, as if my question amused him.

“Talren,” he replied, dragging the syllables like he was savoring his own name. “Of the House Nox Aeternus, though I doubt that means anything to you.”

It didn’t. But the name chilled me as if it belonged to some ancient story I wasn’t meant to hear.

Talren stepped toward me—but in the blink of an eye, Velmira appeared between us. She planted herself in front of him, hands at her sides, body taut like a drawn bow.

“Don’t go near her,” she warned, her voice so low and threatening it froze even me.

Talren chuckled softly.

“So it’s true… what I heard. I thought it was a rumor made to entertain the court. Velmira, the untouchable, the proudest of our noble lineage, hiding a human in her nest.”

“Don’t you dare repeat that,” she snapped.

I had never seen her like this. Not even the night she attacked me. Now she radiated a restrained fury, a protective instinct stronger than hunger or pride. Talren seemed delighted by her reaction.

“Velmira, my dear, what have you become?” he asked, stepping sideways as if to circle her. “A human. A mere mortal. It’s laughable.”

“She is under my protection,” Velmira said—each word a verdict.

Talren raised a brow.

“Under your protection… or under your affection?” he asked, his smile twisting my stomach.

Velmira lunged at him without warning, but Talren blocked her with ridiculous ease. Their hands met with a sound like metal striking stone, and the air vibrated with a strange energy.

I backed away, unable to scream or intervene. All I could do was watch.

“You’re still as impulsive as ever,” Talren mocked, holding her hand in place.

“And you’re still insufferable,” she hissed, forcing his arm downward.

He twisted her wrist and released her, letting her regain her stance.

“What do you want?” she spat, eyes faintly glowing red.

“The same as always,” he said, shrugging. “Information, alliances… and ensuring none of our kind are committing treason. And you, Velmira, have been very… absent.”

Our kind. I’d heard she belonged to a vampiric nobility, but she had never revealed details. Now it felt undeniably real.

“You have nothing to gain here,” she said coolly.

Talren tilted his head toward me.

“Oh, but I think I do,” he said, exposing a hint of fang. “That human is reason enough. How important is she to you, Velmira? Important enough to break the code? To defy the court to protect her?”

Velmira tensed. Her silence was answer enough.

“Interesting…” he whispered.

Then, without warning, he lunged toward me.

Velmira flashed in front of him and shoved him so violently the stone floor cracked.

“Don’t touch her!” she roared.

I heard it—really heard it. A raw, visceral fury, nothing like the cold control she usually carried. Her entire body vibrated with the intensity of a beast defending something too precious to lose.

Talren straightened, chuckling.

“So it’s true. You care.”

Velmira bared her fangs.

“Leave. I won’t say it again.”

“You know this won’t end here,” he replied, brushing off an imaginary speck. “The court will not approve of what you’re doing.”

“Let them come,” she said with a chilling smile.

Talren glanced at me one last time, as if memorizing my face. Or adding it to a list.

“We’ll meet again, human,” he said, bowing mockingly. “Try to survive until then. I’d like to see what makes you so special.”

He vanished into the fading shadows of dawn, leaving behind a suffocating silence.

Velmira didn’t move for several seconds. She seemed frozen, still ready to strike, breathing slowly as if reclaiming control one impulse at a time. I wasn’t sure whether to approach her or stay back. Fear still curled in my stomach, but more than fear for myself… it was fear for her, for what she had just faced because of me.

When she finally turned, her eyes were still too intense.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, stepping closer.

I shook my head quickly.

“No… thanks to you.”

Velmira closed her eyes, as if she needed a moment to process those words. Then she stepped back, running a hand over her face in frustration.

“He shouldn’t have found you,” she muttered.

“Why? Who is he exactly?”

Velmira stayed silent for a moment.

“He is a vampiric noble,” she finally said. “One of the oldest. And one of the most… inquisitive.”

“And you were part of that group?” I asked carefully.

Her back stiffened.

“Yes.”

A chill ran through me.

“Why did you leave them?”

Velmira turned slowly, her expression difficult to read—caught between honesty and centuries of instinct telling her to shut herself off.

“Because I stopped believing in their ideals,” she said softly but firmly. “They believe in the supremacy of our kind, in the eternity of bloodlines, in unquestionable obedience. All of it ate us alive. I… didn’t want to be part of that anymore.”

“So that’s why you live here alone?”

She nodded, showing a rare, weary gesture.

“I exiled myself,” she admitted. “Centuries ago.”

Silence fell between us.

I stepped closer slowly. I saw her shoulders tense as I approached, as if she feared I would recoil now that I knew the truth. But I didn’t. Instead, I reached out and lightly touched her arm.

Velmira blinked—genuinely surprised by the gesture.

“All of this…” I said softly. “All this past, these shadows… they don’t change what you’ve done for me. Or what you are to me now.”

Velmira inhaled deeply, though I knew she didn’t need to breathe.

“Aira…” she whispered, and for the first time, she said my name with such softness it felt like a gift.

The crimson glow faded from her eyes, returning to that deep, mysterious violet I found so captivating.

“I won’t let anyone harm you,” she said with a determination that sent shivers through me. “Not even Talren. Even if I have to stand against the entire vampire nobility.”

My heart hammered so loudly I could hear it. I didn’t know what to say. I only knew what I felt: something warm, immense, and dangerously sweet. Something I shouldn’t feel in a castle full of shadows, yet something blooming all the same.

Velmira looked away briefly, as if her own words embarrassed her.

“I’ll protect you… because…” she stopped herself.

“Because what?” I asked, not stepping away.

She shut her eyes, frustrated.

“Because I can’t imagine this place without you anymore,” she whispered.

My breath caught. It wasn’t a romantic confession—but it wasn’t indifference either. It was another crack in her armor. A crack revealing something delicate, something real.

Something that made me want to stay.

That night, once she made sure Talren was nowhere near, Velmira guided me to the library. She wanted to show me something, though she didn’t explain what. We walked in silence—but this time, it was a comfortable one, shared.

When we arrived, she lit a couple of candelabras. The flickering light revealed a large portrait I hadn’t seen before. It was her… but younger, more human. Her eyes were softer. And beside her stood other figures—stern-looking humans in elegant, ancient clothing.

“That was my family,” Velmira said, her voice a bittersweet blend of pride and sorrow.

I looked closer.

“You look… different,” I whispered.

“I was. Before betrayal found me. Before I learned that even the oldest nobility can rot.”

I glanced at her. She didn’t look away from the portrait.

“Velmira…” I began.

“You don’t need to say anything,” she said gently. “I just wanted you to know what kind of world you’re stepping into.”

I stepped closer to her.

“If you’re in that world… then I can step into it.”

Velmira stared at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher—something between surprise, restrained tenderness, and deep fear.

“Aira… you don’t know what you’re saying,” she whispered.

“I do.”

She looked away again, as if needing to protect herself from my words. But she didn’t deny them. She didn’t push me away.

The crack in her armor widened—just a little.

And that night, I knew my life was already intertwined with hers… even before I could say it out loud.