Meanwhile, far from the emotional whirlwind Aeliana was experiencing, Lucian arrived at a secluded manor deep in the shadowy forests of his domain. The sprawling estate belonged to Lady Selinthra Duskveil, a powerful vampire noble known for her sharp tongue, wit, and unsettling beauty. Her invitation had been unexpected but intriguing, citing urgent matters of demonkin politics.
Lucian stepped out of his dark carriage, his crimson cape billowing in the chill wind. The air here carried a faint sweetness, tinged with the metallic scent of blood—a subtle hallmark of Selinthra's territory. As he approached the grand doors of the manor, they opened before he could knock, revealing Selinthra herself.
"Ah, Lord Lucian," she purred, her voice honeyed and low. Her golden eyes glinted like a predator's as she swept into a graceful bow, her midnight gown hugging her curves in a way that felt deliberately suggestive. "How very delightful to see you gracing my humble abode, Demon Lord Lucian."
