-Lucien Draven:
It had been two months.
Two months of silence.
Two months of loneliness so suffocating that it felt like a weight pressing against my chest.
Vaelora and Cassius never returned.
Not a single glance. Not a single word.
Not even an explanation.
I didn't know why it still hurt as much as it did. Maybe because they had been the first—the only—people to treat me like I was something more than a prisoner. More than my father's failure of a son.
I had told myself I would stop waiting. That I would stop expecting. That I would stop hoping.
But I still found myself glancing at the door, listening for footsteps that never came.
And then—
It opened.
But it wasn't them.
It was him.
The air in the room thickened instantly like all warmth had been sucked out of it, leaving behind only cold, crushing dread.
My father, the King of Vampires, stood in the doorway.
Darius Draven.
The first vampire to ever exist.
The most powerful, the most feared, the most merciless.
