The palace felt colder than usual. A quiet tension lingered in the air, as if something beneath the grand marble floors and golden ceilings had shifted.
Inside Elias's chamber, he sat still on the edge of his bed, staring at the untouched food before him. Fresh fruits, grilled meats, honeyed bread, and a goblet of sweet wine, his favorites. Yet none stirred his appetite. His body felt restless, hollow, as though something deeper now stirred beneath his skin.
His throat burned.
His pulse quickened without reason.
And worst of all, he was thirsty. Not for water or wine… but something thicker, warmer… something alive.
Elias stood abruptly, running a hand through his dark hair. The silence in the room pressed down on him like a weight.
He stepped into the hallway.
At that moment, Seraphina appeared, walking toward him with a folded cloth pressed against her finger. A trail of crimson trickled from a small cut. Behind her, a broken porcelain cup lay shattered on the marble floor.
"Where are you going? We need to talk," she said softly, her voice uncertain.
Elias didn't answer. He could barely focus. The scent hit him like a crashing wave, sweet, warm, and tempting. Her blood stirred something primal within him. His feet moved before his thoughts could catch up.
He reached for her hand, his gaze darkening.
"What are you...?" Seraphina started, but before she could step back, he had taken her hand gently… and brought her injured finger to his lips.
He sucked the blood lightly at first, then more deeply, unable to stop.
Seraphina froze, her heart thudding. "Elias… Elias, stop!"
He didn't hear her. Hunger overtook reason. He leaned closer to her neck, drawn by instinct.
Suddenly, a pair of hands pulled him back.
"Enough."
It was Helen.
She stood firm, holding his arm tightly, her touch calm and steady. Her gaze locked on his, firm yet full of understanding.
"Can you come back later, my princess?" Helen asked gently, shielding Elias with her body.
Seraphina blinked, stunned. But what caught her attention wasn't just Elias's strange behavior—it was how Helen held his arm… and how Elias allowed it.
"Alright," Seraphina said, forcing a smile. "I'll come back later."
She walked away slowly, though her thoughts spun with unease.
Once she was gone, Helen turned back to Elias.
"What happened?" she asked quietly.
"I don't know," Elias murmured. "I keep craving blood… like my body isn't mine anymore."
Helen's eyes widened slightly. "What did Frederick do to you?"
"He… he wasn't human," Elias replied. He had fangs… red eyes. He tore out my heart, Helen. I remember it. And yet—I woke up. I feel alive, but I know something's different."
Helen felt her chest tighten. She remembered the stories, old, whispered ones her grandmother used to tell. Legends of cursed beings who fed on blood and walked unseen in the night.
"Come with me," she said.
She took his hand and led him quickly through the side corridors of the palace. They exited through a quiet garden gate and entered the woods behind the palace.
The forest was quiet, birdsong fading as they ventured deeper. The rising sun cast filtered light through the tall trees. Then, in a clearing, they saw it—a large wild boar grazing, unaware.
"There," Helen pointed. "Feed."
Elias looked at her, stunned. "What?"
"You're changing, Elias. But you don't have to hurt anyone. You need blood to survive now… so take it from nature. Not people."
"I don't want to be this," he whispered.
Helen stepped closer, gently holding his face. "Look at me. You're still you. Just promise me—don't harm humans. Please."
Elias nodded slowly.
He turned, took a breath, and dashed forward. The boar noticed him and charged, tusks gleaming. Elias grunted as it struck him, but he didn't fall. His eyes flickered with a faint glow, purple, unnatural.
He gripped the beast and pinned it down with startling strength. Then, hesitating only a moment, he bit into its neck.
The blood filled his mouth, hot, rich, and alive. It flooded his senses with warmth and strength. His limbs trembled as unfamiliar power surged through him.
When he pulled away, the boar lay motionless.
Elias staggered back, dazed. A snarl escaped his throat. His body trembled with energy he couldn't control. Suddenly, he turned and lunged toward Helen, his eyes wild. His hand wrapped around her neck, lifting her off the ground.
"Elias!" she gasped. "It's me, please! You're hurting me!"
Her voice pierced through the haze. He blinked.
His grip loosened. He let her go, horrified, and stepped back.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to…"
Helen caught her breath and rubbed her neck. "It's alright, You stopped. That's what matters. You're strong, Elias. But don't lose yourself."
Elias collapsed on the grass, breathing hard.
"What if I change again?" he asked, his voice shaky. "What if I lose control completely?"
Helen knelt beside him. "My grandmother once told me about a book about vampire bloodlines. We'll find it. There might be a cure… or at least an answer."
"You really think so?"
"I believe it. And until we know for sure… you're not alone."
He nodded, grateful.
Back at the palace, Seraphina stood before Elias's chamber door. She hesitated… then knocked.
"Come in," Elias called from within.
She stepped in slowly. He sat by the window, freshly bathed and calm.
"You wanted to talk," he said.
"Yes. First… who is that girl to you? And why was she holding your hand like that?"
Elias raised a brow. "Are you jealous?"
"What? No! I was just..."
He stepped forward, gently took her hand, and pulled her slightly off balance. She landed softly on the bed.
He leaned over her, his gaze quiet but direct. "See? You're jealous. It's written all over your face."
"I am not…" she whispered.
But then, without thinking, she closed the distance and kissed him.
It was hesitant at first, nervous, but full of emotion. Elias didn't resist. He kissed her back, his hand resting lightly on her waist.
When they finally broke apart, neither spoke.
Seraphina turned away quickly, her face flushed. "Goodnight," she murmured.
"Sleep well," Elias replied, watching her go.
She looked radiant tonight. Her dark hair flowed over her shoulders, her eyes bright with hidden emotion. Even in jealousy, she was breathtaking.
The next morning came with quiet anticipation.
It was the day of the priestess's coronation. The palace thrummed with activity. Crimson banners with golden embroidery fluttered in the breeze. Musicians played flutes and drums. Nobles from across the land arrived, their carriages lining the courtyard.
The crowd thickened. Curiosity buzzed in the air. Would the White Tiger's descendant truly be named today?
Helen stood at the back of the ceremonial hall, dressed in white robes of woven silk. Her eyes wandered across the intricate carvings on the walls… but something else pulled at her attention.
A strange feeling… like a forgotten truth calling out.
From his throne, the king addressed the court.
"Couldn't you find the Blue Staff?" he asked, eyes narrowed.
The priestess's assistant stepped forward, smiling faintly.
"That's because…" she said, her voice smooth, "the staff is already here."
A murmur rose through the audience.
"Where?!" the king demanded.
Helen raised her eyes and pointed upward to the domed ceiling above the altar.
"There," she said calmly. "It's been hidden in plain sight."