The Vampire Kingdom stood silent beneath the twilight sky.
A heavy hush cloaked the courtyard as Carl, Alpha of the Lycans, stepped through the ancient gates of Valus's palace.
The scent of wolf stirred the guards. Eyes narrowed, hands brushed weapons. But none moved. He had been expected.
In the grand throne hall, carved from shadow and onyx, Lord Valus sat atop his raised seat, swathed in crimson and darkness. The ancient vampire was still as stone, his gaze cutting through the dim like a blade. A goblet of dark elixir rested on the clawed armrest of his throne—untouched.
Carl advanced slowly, boots echoing across marble. His leather coat was soaked with the grime of travel. At the base of the dais, he knelt—not in submission, but in solemn respect.
"Lord Valus," he said, voice calm, but burdened, "I come not as Alpha tonight… but as a man. As a father."
Valus arched an eyebrow, leaning back. "You've never knelt before, Carl. What truth brings you to your knees now?"
Carl rose, meeting his gaze without fear. "It's time you knew everything. About me. About Maika. About Caveen."
Something flickered in Valus's eyes—brief, imperceptible to most. But Carl saw it.
"I'm listening," Valus said, setting his goblet aside.
Carl's voice dropped, thick with memory. "Years ago, before Maika awakened as a vampire… she lived as a human. Her name was Aster. A woman of fierce will and fierce love. I met her under moonlight. I loved her. And she loved me."
Valus's expression hardened. His fingers tapped once on the throne.
"You speak of ghosts," he said.
Carl nodded. "We married. And from that union… Caveen was born."
Silence fell like a guillotine.
Valus stood slowly, the motion deliberate—dangerous.
"You dare say this now?" His voice was low, razor-sharp. "That my daughter—my blood—bore a child with a Lycan?"
Carl didn't flinch. "She didn't remember. The transformation erased her human life. But the memories returned. And with them, the truth."
Valus turned away, pacing toward the tall stained-glass windows. The crimson-tinted light painted his silhouette in blood and ash.
"I always suspected she wasn't born of pure lineage," he murmured. "Vienna feared for her. Feared what the Council would do if they knew. But this? This bond with you?"
Carl stepped forward. "She's not just your daughter, Valus. She's your legacy. A fusion of bloodlines meant to break this world's decay. And our son—he's more than either of us. That's why the Council took him."
Valus turned sharply, eyes blazing. "You're saying they know?"
"They sensed his aura. Maybe the black magic, maybe the hybrid blood. They took him to erase the threat—to dissect what he is."
Valus's voice dropped to a whisper, darker than before. "Do you know what chaos will follow if the Council confirms his bloodline? A vampire heir who carries witchcraft… and was born of a Lycan?"
Carl's voice was steady. "Let them know. I'm done hiding."
Valus studied him—truly studied him. No longer a rival. No longer just a wolf. Something more. Something that stood on the edge of war.
"I should kill you," Valus said coolly. "For daring to touch her. For creating a child that threatens the balance between worlds."
Carl didn't look away. "Then do it."
A beat.
But Valus didn't strike.
Instead, his gaze dropped to the pendant around Carl's neck—a ruby ring, worn and old, strung on a leather cord.
"That ring…" Valus's voice dropped. "It belonged to Vienna. She gave it to Aster. And now…"
His voice trailed off.
"Does Maika know you're here?" he asked.
"She knows I would never keep Caveen from you any longer," Carl said. "Not when everything's at stake."
Valus returned to his throne, the weight of centuries in his every motion. He sat, silent, then spoke—his tone softer, but not weak.
"She is my daughter," he said. "Vienna's gift. Which makes that boy… my blood as well."
Carl let out a slow breath. The first sliver of hope.
"I'm not asking permission," he said. "But I am asking for your support. If we stand divided, we'll lose him."
Valus's lips twitched. Not quite a smile. Not quite a snarl.
"You'll have it," he said at last. "But tell no one. Not until Caveen is safe. If the Council confirms this, they'll strike to kill."
Carl inclined his head. "Understood."
Valus raised his glass at last, swirling the dark elixir.
"You're still a Lycan, Carl," he said. "But perhaps… you were never truly my enemy."
Carl turned toward the towering doors. But he paused, one hand on the carved iron frame.
"One last thing," he said quietly. "Maika still doesn't know who her true mother is. That she's Vienna's daughter. You should be the one to tell her."
Valus froze.
A shadow passed through his expression—deep, old, and sorrowful.
"When the time is right," he murmured.