The throne hall filled like a tide breaking through stone.
One by one, the Origin clan stepped into the chamber, their auras burning different colors against the blackstone walls. Anita with her crimson coat and cold, sharp eyes. Alessia, her shadow trailing behind her like a living thing. Mikael, broad as a fortress, his presence shaking the air. Zane, calm, silent, dangerous. One after another until the chamber was heavy with power.
And not just them.
Dracula arrived last among the elders, his cloak dragging across the floor, the old weight of the Vampire Realm etched into his face. Valena stood at his side, elegant as ever, her sharp eyes cutting across the room. Behind them, lords and high-born stood in a line, each one marked by centuries of blood and dominion.
When Lucifer finally rose from the crescent throne, every gaze turned to him. The weight of the room bent toward him naturally, as though gravity itself had chosen him alone.
