The first scream echoed through Sterling Manor just after midnight.
It wasn't loud.
In fact, it was so brief that most of the servants sleeping in the eastern wing never heard it. Those who did simply pulled their blankets tighter, pretending it had been nothing more than the wind moving through the stone corridors.
No one living inside the manor ever asked questions after midnight.
Especially not on nights like this.
Captain Aldric was halfway through changing the palace guards when the alarm bell rang once.
Only once.
Every knight within hearing distance stiffened.
No one spoke.
No one needed an explanation.
"It's happening," one of the younger soldiers whispered.
Aldric's expression darkened immediately. "Seal the northern wing. No servant enters without my permission."
The young knight swallowed. "And... His Grace?"
Aldric looked toward the isolated tower rising above the rest of the estate. Candlelight flickered behind its highest windows before one of them shattered, raining glass onto the courtyard below.
"Pray this one passes quickly."
No one moved for several heartbeats.
Then another crash echoed through the manor.
Inside the tower, another porcelain vase exploded against the stone wall.
Gideon Sterling stood motionless in the center of the room, one hand gripping the edge of a heavy oak table with such force that the wood groaned beneath his fingers.
His breathing had become shallow.
Slow.
Painfully controlled.
A single drop of blood slid from his nose onto the polished floor.
Then another.
The room around him seemed to shift.
The stone walls twisted.
The candle flames stretched unnaturally long before dissolving into darkness.
Voices whispered from every direction.
Some begged.
Some laughed.
Others simply screamed.
Gideon shut his eyes.
It didn't help.
The whispers only grew louder.
His entire body turned ice cold.
Not the ordinary chill of winter.
This cold reached his bones.
His fingertips lost all feeling as if the blood itself had stopped flowing through his veins.
Another sharp pain exploded behind his eyes.
He staggered a single step before catching himself against the table.
No.
Not now.
His jaw tightened until the muscles trembled.
He forced himself to breathe.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
The blood dripping from his nose began falling faster.
Outside the chamber, no one dared enter.
Three physicians stood together near the doorway, each clutching leather cases filled with medicines they already knew would accomplish very little.
The eldest physician looked toward Captain Aldric.
"When did it begin?"
"Less than fifteen minutes ago."
"And His Grace?"
"He ordered everyone to stay outside."
The physician closed his eyes briefly.
"He always says that."
"Because he knows what happens if we don't listen."
Silence settled over the corridor.
Every person standing there had witnessed at least one attack before.
Every person carried the memory.
The youngest physician finally spoke.
"If we wait any longer—"
A deafening roar interrupted him.
The sound barely resembled a human voice.
Several servants farther down the corridor screamed before running away.
Even seasoned soldiers instinctively reached for their swords.
The youngest physician took an involuntary step backward.
Aldric noticed.
"If you're afraid..."
"I am."
The physician didn't deny it.
"But I'll still go."
Without another word, he pushed open the heavy wooden doors.
The room looked as though a storm had swept through it.
Books lay scattered across the floor.
Broken glass glittered beneath overturned furniture.
The fire burning inside the hearth had nearly gone out.
Gideon hadn't moved far from where he had been standing.
Blood stained the front of his dark robes.
His face had gone frighteningly pale.
Yet none of that frightened the physician.
It was Gideon's eyes.
They weren't looking at the room.
They were fixed on something that wasn't there.
Something only he could see.
"Your Grace..."
The physician took one careful step forward.
"I've prepared another dose."
No response.
Another step.
"You need to take the medicine."
Gideon's gaze shifted slowly toward him.
For one terrifying moment...
There was no recognition.
The physician felt his heartbeat stop.
It wasn't the Grand Duke looking back at him.
It was a man trapped somewhere far away.
A man surrounded by enemies no one else could see.
"Stay back."
The words came low.
Almost unrecognizable.
"My lord..."
"I said..."
The air inside the room seemed to freeze.
"...stay back."
The physician hesitated.
Only for an instant.
He reached into his case and removed the prepared vial.
"I'm only trying to help."
Before the final word left his mouth—
The medicine bottle shattered.
He hadn't seen Gideon move.
One moment the vial rested in his hand.
The next it exploded against the opposite wall.
The physician stumbled backward in shock.
A violent gust swept through the chamber, slamming both doors shut with enough force to shake the walls.
Outside, the soldiers instinctively rushed toward the entrance.
Captain Aldric raised one arm.
"No."
"But—"
"No one enters."
Inside...
The physician slowly lowered his empty hand.
He finally understood.
Gideon hadn't attacked him.
He had attacked the hallucination standing where the physician had been.
The illness no longer allowed him to distinguish one from the other.
Another physician entered several minutes later.
Then another.
One attempted acupuncture.
Another prepared heated medicinal needles.
A third mixed powdered herbs directly into warm wine.
Every treatment failed.
Some couldn't even get close enough to touch him.
By the time the fourth physician left the room, his hands were shaking so badly he nearly dropped his medicine chest.
"I've done everything I can."
No one answered him.
Because everyone already knew.
There was nothing left to try.
The moon hung unnaturally red above Sterling Manor.
Its crimson light spilled through the broken windows, washing the chamber in a color disturbingly similar to fresh blood.
Gideon had fallen to one knee.
Every muscle in his body trembled against his will.
His hands were so cold they had begun turning faintly blue.
The whispers still hadn't stopped.
Now they carried faces.
Soldiers who had died beneath his command.
Children he had failed to rescue.
Men whose names he had forgotten.
They surrounded him from every side.
Accusing.
Reaching.
Calling his name.
His breathing became uneven.
He pressed one hand against the floor, forcing himself not to surrender to the darkness threatening to consume his mind.
Not here.
Not while others could see.
If he lost control...
If he mistook one of his own soldiers for an enemy...
He would never forgive himself.
Outside the chamber, Captain Aldric quietly ordered every guard to retreat another ten paces from the tower.
No one questioned him.
Every knight understood the order without explanation.
They weren't protecting themselves from the Grand Duke.
They were protecting the Grand Duke from the possibility of waking to blood on his own hands.
The realization settled heavily over the corridor.
The Empire believed Gideon Sterling was terrifying because he had never shown mercy on the battlefield.
Only those within Sterling Manor knew the truth.
The man everyone feared...
Spent every attack fearing himself.
And tonight, beneath the crimson glow of the Blood Moon, the battle he fought was not against invading armies or political enemies.
It was against the monster his own mind insisted was waiting just beyond the edge of reason.
No victory on any battlefield had ever demanded more of him than surviving until dawn.