That night, while John was recovering and deeply unconscious, sleeping on a soft, luxurious bed in a vast, dark room of the castle, a figure materialized next to his bedside. Though John looked completely normal, almost human, the man leaned over. His eyes were glowing with an intense, calculated blood red as he scanned the boy's whole body, assessing the subtle residue of the violent, hybrid transformation. This person, as expected, was Leonidas Crimson.
Having received the news of the boy's unprecedented reaction to the blood, Leonidas had come to make his own private assessment. He reached out his arm, his elegant fingers tipped with razor-sharp nails, and his hand was about to make contact with John's pale, sweat-soaked skin when a low, guttural snarl ripped through the air.
"What the f—k are you trying to do with my son, old man?" A pair of glowing blue eyes revealed themselves in the corner of the darkness, cutting through the shadows like twin torches. Jiren was standing there, his massive frame perfectly still in the shadows, his breathing shallow, expecting the worst from his father-in-law.
Leonidas instantly retracted his hand, his initial shock quickly replaced by cold fury. "This child is an abomination," Leonidas spat, the word laced with genuine disgust, not just contempt.
The room suddenly dropped several degrees in temperature. The air grew thick, heavy, and metallic. Jiren's potent bloodlust, the pure, feral intent of a werewolf alpha defending his young, slowly seeped out, pressing against Leonidas like a physical force. The intensity of Jiren's anger felt like a hundred pounds of pressure per square inch. "I dare you to say that again," Jiren growled, his voice rumbling like distant thunder.
Leonidas looked at Jiren, his expression utterly unfazed by the werewolf's challenge. The bloodlust that came toward him was immense, but the ancient vampire treated it like a mild breeze. Instead, he grinned—a predatory, terrifying curl of his lips—and slowly released his own, far colder bloodlust. It felt like a vacuum, sucking the warmth and life out of the air, a patient, ancient malice that made the very stones of the castle seem to weep. The clash of the two primal energies—feral heat versus icy malice—was deafening in the profound silence.
The door to the private chamber suddenly swung open, revealing Angeline, who had sensed the massive discharge of power from down the hall. "What is going on in here?" she demanded, her voice cutting the tension like glass.
The competing bloodlusts instantly snapped back, receding into their hosts. Angeline looked first at Jiren, whose blue eyes faded instantly, and then at her father, looking for answers.
"I was merely trying to check on the child to see if he is in good condition, as is my right," Leonidas replied with a silky lie, his composure instantly restored. "Then this dog challenged me by baring his teeth. I, of course, would not decline a challenge."
Jiren gave Leonidas a menacing look, his posture still coiled and ready. "That's cap, and you know it."
Leonidas looked genuinely confused. "What is… cap?"
"Stop it, both of you!" Angeline shouted, running her hands through her hair in exasperation. She knew exactly what her father was capable of. "Father, I want to have a private conversation with you. Now."
In a separate, smaller sitting room, Angeline immediately faced her father. "Father, be honest with me; did you try to harm my child?"
Leonidas let out a heavy sigh, a sound of profound annoyance that he didn't even bother to mask. "Of course I did not try to harm the child, Angeline. I simply was assessing the risk. His volatile nature is a threat to the stability of the entire coven."
Angeline ignored the excuse, her gaze intense and unwavering. "Father, listen to me closely. Me and Jiren are going to leave tomorrow. You know we must. Can I trust you that my child will not come to any harm while we are gone? Look me in the eyes and promise me. Otherwise, I will take my son and leave this place right now, and you will never see me again for eternity."
Leonidas looked at his daughter. Her resolve was absolute; he knew she meant every word. He had other children and other grandchildren, but Angeline was his only daughter, and she was precious to him—the central jewel in the Crimson crown. The thought of losing her presence forever was a catastrophic wound to his ego and his heart.
He closed his eyes, contemplating the loss of her presence.
After a few agonizing seconds, he opened his eyes, the vibrant red focused and firm. "I promise that the child will come to no harm."
Angeline did not stop there. She knew Leonidas's promises came with loopholes. "Father, also promise me that you won't put my child in any dangerous situations or allow him to be put at risk unnecessarily."
"I promise," Leonidas repeated, the word tasting like ash in his mouth.
"Good," Angeline said, a single tear of relief and fear tracking down her cheek. "I am going to put my trust in you and Mom to raise my child and teach him how to control his powers. He has to learn, and he has to be safe."
Leonidas frowned. "I cannot undertake the child's training myself, Angeline. As the Lord of this Clan, my obligations require my full attention, and I cannot be diverted from my duties."
"Then find someone who can, Father. Don't tell me the Crimson Coven lacks resources. Where is Zeno? Ask him to train my child. He is my brother, and he is one of the most powerful swordsman you have."
Angeline smiled, a beautiful, devastating smile that was all her own. "Besides, with John being here, you will get more chances to see me. We can go to the lake like the old times—father and daughter spending time together." The promise of reconnecting, the subtle manipulation of his affection, was the final, critical push.
Leonidas reached out, grabbed her hands, and brought them to his lips, kissing them with a rare, sincere tenderness. "I will do as you command," he vowed, his true power temporarily submitting to his deep-seated paternal devotion.
Angeline squeezed his hands. "Remember, Father, you cannot tell any outsiders that he is a Hybrid. He must be known simply as my son, the vampire heir. Not a word about the werewolf. The clan cannot know yet."
"Of course," Leonidas replied, his voice flat.