It took me a full day to recover—and that's when she summoned me.
The Immortal Queen.
And somehow… I was now standing in the heart of the vampire court.
The Queen regarded me from her throne, her elbow resting on the arm of the chair, her head cradled in her fist, eyes half-lidded like the entire assembly bored her. Yet the chill of her gaze sent shivers crawling up my spine. Every breath in the room seemed heavier, as if the air itself feared her presence. One thought struck me immediately: she was not just dangerous. She was a living storm.
Her voice cut through the silence.
"I can hear it."
My stomach knotted.
My thoughts.
Shit. Did she really know what I was thinking?
She didn't pause. Calm, terrifyingly precise:
"Indeed. I hear you clearly, human. Felix."
The hairs on my neck stood on end.
I straightened, forcing my voice to remain polite. "Why was I summoned, Your Highness?"
The court was silent.
Lucien shifted uneasily beside me. Lilith leaned forward slightly. Her father—the Vampire King—and her brothers were all present. Yet even they seemed tense, their postures betraying caution. Every vampire in the room—dozens of centuries-old beings—looked wary, almost reverent, in the presence of their queen.
She leaned forward just enough for the candlelight to catch the sharp angles of her face, crimson eyes locking onto mine.
"You are here because you may claim anything you wish."
My throat went dry.
"Excuse me?"
"You saved my daughter twice," she continued, voice smooth, like silk dragging over stone. "Once from bandits. And once from death itself."
My pulse hammered in my ears. I could feel every heartbeat echoing in my chest, loud enough to rival the Queen's calm command.
Her gaze sharpened. "Tell me, Felix… do you know what you truly are?"
I blinked, confused. "Pardon?"
"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean, Your Highness," I said, forcing words from my dry throat.
The Queen studied me for a long moment, silence stretching like a blade across the hall. Then she exhaled, slow and deliberate.
"I suspected as much."
Her voice dropped to a whisper that seemed to vibrate through the marble floors:
"Felix Rosewal."
The word itself sounded like thunder in the stillness of the court.
"He has returned."
A chill ran down my spine, crawling across my skin like icy fingers. My lungs felt tight, my chest constricted under the weight of her words.
"…Him?" I managed to croak.
Her crimson eyes narrowed, shadows flickering across the throne room as if the walls themselves leaned in to listen.
"The one who called himself nothing. The one who was the beginning… and the end."
Her voice was a dangerous melody, threading through the air, settling deep in my bones.
"He had no name," she whispered, and I could feel centuries of power coiled in her words. "We called him many things."
The Queen's eyes burned with the light of stars that had died long before our time.
"The Void Walker. The Realm Wanderer.""The Realm Wanderer…"
As the words left the Queen's lips, something strange rippled through the throne room.
It wasn't sound.
It wasn't magic anyone could see.
But the air itself seemed to shiver.
A faint pressure spread through the hall, like the moment before a storm breaks. The torches along the walls flickered violently, shadows stretching across the marble floor.
Behind the throne—
clang.
A blade trembled against its stand.
My eyes snapped toward it.
The sword.
The same sword I had held earlier.
The cursed blade.
Crimson Death.
Its dark crimson metal pulsed faintly in the torchlight, almost like a heartbeat buried inside the steel. The blade quivered again, a low metallic hum vibrating through the quiet chamber.
Every vampire in the court noticed.
Several of them stiffened.
A few stepped back.
The sword wasn't supposed to move.
Lilith had told me about it before.
It belonged to her grandfather—the ancient vampire king whose wars had shaped half the continent. A weapon forged in blood and legend, feared even among immortals.
And now…
It was trembling.
Because of a name.
My name.
A cold knot formed in my stomach.
I slowly turned back toward the Queen, the weight of a hundred silent gazes pressing against my back.
"…That sword," I said quietly.
My voice sounded smaller than I expected in the massive hall.
"That's the one I used earlier."
The Queen didn't look surprised.
If anything—
she looked interested.
Her crimson eyes flicked briefly toward the trembling blade behind her throne.
Then back to me.
"Yes," she said calmly.
"And it remembers you."
The Queen's crimson gaze lingered on the trembling blade behind her throne. The faint metallic hum still echoed through the silent hall, vibrating softly in the marble beneath our feet.
Then her eyes returned to me.
Cold. Calculating.
Her lips curved—not quite a smile.
"It's a shame," she said slowly, her voice smooth as dark velvet, "that it chose you as its master."
The words settled heavily in the air.
A few vampires shifted uncomfortably. One of Lilith's brothers glanced toward the sword again, as if expecting it to leap from its stand.
I swallowed.