🩸 CHAPTER THREE
714 Words
Beneath the beautiful modern city exists a hidden veil—one humans remain completely unaware of. A world ruled by creatures they dismiss as myths or fantasy.
A supernatural layer where vampires reign in silence.
Like a kingdom.
At its center stands the King with his subordinates beneath him.
A black limousine waits in front of a grand mansion. From the wide staircase, a figure emerges from the hall—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. His dark red eyes hold nothing but silence and quiet authority.
Lined along the staircase, the servants bow their heads, not daring to look up.
The man steps into the limousine.
It pulls away.
Calhoun detested meetings like this. To him, they were unnecessary… a waste of time. Yet, as a lord, attendance was not optional.
In the kingdom of Valerine, the courtroom stood vast and imposing.
A long table rested at the center, surrounded by powerful figures—the lords and ministers of the realm.
Calhoun sat with one leg crossed over the other, his posture relaxed, almost careless.
But his eyes—
His eyes were not.
They moved slowly across the room, observing every lord present, reading them without effort.
Then his gaze landed on one man.
And lingered.
Cassian Vale.
Next in line for the throne.
Calhoun’s jaw tightened slightly. Cassian Vale was the last person he wanted anything to do with. The royal family carried nothing but complications—and Calhoun preferred to remain untouched by them.
Power was cleaner that way.
He had chosen to become the highest Lord in Valerine… and beyond.
“Hello, big brother,” Cassian’s voice broke through, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Calhoun’s expression didn’t change.
But his eyes darkened slightly.
He hated that smile.
“Cassian,” he said, his tone flat, uninterested. “What brings the prince here?”
Cassian chuckled softly. “Well, I am the prince. I should be here.”
Calhoun looked away, already bored of the conversation.
“Welcome,” he said dryly, his attention shifting back to his phone.
The king entered shortly after, and the room fell into order. Complaints, disputes, and matters of control filled the air—most revolving around slaves and territorial authority.
Calhoun listened.
But only barely.
When the meeting ended, the lords began to leave, their voices rising in low chatter.
Calhoun stood immediately, heading for the door without hesitation. He had no interest in pointless conversations.
“Lord Calhoun.”
The voice stopped him.
He paused.
Slowly turning.
Karina.
She approached him dressed lavishly, draped in expensive wine-red fabric layered into a flowing gown. Jewelry shimmered against her skin, the dress tighten her bust and her hair fell neatly around her face.
She was beautiful.
But Calhoun felt nothing.
“Where are you rushing off to?” she asked, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she fell into step beside him.
“Not today, Karina,” he replied without sparing her a glance.
She tilted her head slightly. “Well, Calhoun… I wanted to know if I could stop by today.”
They reached the palace entrance where their cars waited.
Calhoun stopped walking and finally turned to face her.
“If that’s all you have to say,” he said coldly, “I’ll take my leave.”
He turned—
But her voice stopped him again.
“I heard you got yourself a human slave.”
Silence.
Calhoun looked at her, his gaze steady. Unreadable.
“And what about it?” he asked.
Karina smiled faintly, though something stiff lingered beneath it.
“Nothing,” she said lightly. “I was just wondering why a Lord like you—who detests human slaves—would suddenly take one.”
Calhoun studied her.
Everyone knew Karina. The only daughter of the King’s advisor Kane Vast—spoiled, selfish, and used to getting whatever she wanted.
Which was exactly why he disliked her.
“Karina,” he said, his voice dropping slightly.
She met his gaze.
“You don’t want to get on my nerves.”
The air shifted.
His presence alone carried weight—quiet, suffocating.
“I suggest you stay in your lane.”
For once—
Karina didn’t immediately respond.
And that was answer enough
- Writer
