Chapter 102: Lords Among Monsters
{VAL}
I stepped deeper into the mansion, my presence concealed beneath layers of arcane shadow.
The grand hallway stretched before me, illuminated by crimson chandeliers that mimicked dripping blood.
Laughter echoed from distant rooms—careless, drunken, cruel.
They celebrated while corpses cooled.
My boots made no sound against the marble floor as I moved like a ghost through the halls. Every servant I passed remained oblivious. Every guard stared straight through me.
Good.
I preferred it this way.
This was one of the many Evernight estate. This one belonged to Sol. Once had once been magnificent—a symbol of power and prestige. Now it reeked of decay, rot festering beneath gilded walls. Silk tapestries hid dark stains. Golden goblets overflowed with stolen life.
This was not a home.
It was a graveyard pretending to be a palace.
And somewhere within these walls, Sol Evernight was counting his blood-soaked coins, praying they would buy him more time.
Time he didn’t deserve.
Music echoed through the grand hall—laughter, clinking glasses, mocking cheers.
The freshman welcoming party.
My eyelid twitched the moment I stepped inside the grand hall. I had never been fond of gatherings like this—lavish, decadent affairs where vampires paraded their vices openly and called it celebration.
The air was thick with perfume, sweat, and iron. Blood lingered beneath it all, unmistakable, clinging to the walls like an invisible mist.
I pushed through the crowd, searching for Iris.
Vampires filled the marble floor from wall to wall, their pale figures moving in lazy circles, as if the night itself belonged to them.
Some swayed to the slow, haunting melody drifting from the orchestra pit, their bodies gliding together in an intimate dance.
Others pressed humans against pillars and velvet drapes, mouths buried in soft flesh, feeding without shame.
Blood dripped down pale chins like crimson wine, staining lace collars and jeweled fingers. No one seemed bothered. In this place, indulgence was law.
My gaze darted from face to face, scanning the sea of immortals. Dark hair, silver hair, black eyes, crimson eyes—but no sign of her.
Finding Iris in this chaos would be problematic. She had no scent.
Damn it.
I cursed silently, clenching my fists as frustration crawled up my spine. At times like this, I truly hated that she was unscented.
Vampires relied on scent the way humans relied on sight. Without it, she was nothing but a ghost in a sea of monsters.
I shoved past a pair of laughing nobles when a voice reached my ears.
"That girl with white hair is so pretty... I wish I could take her."
I froze mid-step.
White hair?
Even among vampires and werewolves, white hair was rare. Among werewolves, it was almost unheard of.
My heart thudded violently against my ribs as I slowed, pretending to pass casually by the men whispering near the banquet table.
"Too bad Lord Sol bid so high for her," another voice scoffed. "I heard he’s already claimed her for the night."
"I think she’s a virgin too," the first one snickered. "That girl with golden hair was pretty as well. A virgin human fetches a good price. But that white-haired bitch? She’s a werewolf, right? Rarer. More exotic."
My blood turned cold.
There was only one white-haired werewolf woman I knew.
And only one human girl with golden hair who would ever be near her.
It’s them.
My jaw tightened.
But won in an auction?
Could it be...?
I lifted my gaze to the second floor, where most of the private rooms were located. Red velvet curtains hung like veils of sin, concealing whatever debauchery happened behind them.
Soft laughter drifted down from above, mingled with muffled moans. This mansion had always been a den of vice, but tonight it was worse. Something darker lingered beneath the revelry.
This wasn’t my first time here. I had visited this cursed place many times—each time needing Sol Evernight’s influence for political reasons.
The vampire lord owned this mansion. He hosted these gatherings as entertainment, pretending it was nothing more than a masquerade ball for nobles.
But beneath the masks and music was a black market—human trafficking, supernatural auctions, blood trade.
Sol never liked gatherings like this either. The laughter, the indulgence, the endless parade of masked monsters—it all disgusted him.
Yet he still opened his mansion for such nights, not for pleasure, but for profit. Gold flowed easily in places like this, and even more valuable than gold was information.
Whispers passed between wine glasses and bloodstained lips—rumors of forbidden алхемies, black-market artifacts, and most importantly, a so-called miracle medicine said to defy death itself.
For that knowledge, Sol was willing to tolerate any amount of filth.
I clenched my jaw.
It was not like I was any different right now.
I teleported without hesitation.
The world blurred, the hall dissolving into shadows, and I reappeared on the second floor.
The hallway stretched endlessly, doors lining both sides, each leading to a private chamber. I didn’t bother checking them one by one. Time was precious.
Instead, I searched for Caroline’s scent.
I should have thought of this sooner.
Where Caroline was, Iris would surely be nearby. If Caroline had been captured, Iris would never abandon her.
I closed my eyes and focused.
Caroline’s scent was faint but familiar—her perfume was subtle, never overpowering. Roses. Soft, gentle, comforting. It suited her. Not the artificial sweetness of nobles, but something genuine, like a flower blooming quietly in a forgotten garden.
I inhaled deeply.
There.
A faint trail.
Relief surged through me as I followed it down the corridor, my footsteps silent against the marble floor.
The scent grew stronger... then suddenly—
It vanished.
My heart dropped.
Shit.
What happened?
Did someone mask her scent?
Or worse...
Did she really die?
The thought struck like lightning.
The first thought was Vladimir.
My pulse roared in my ears as I ran, following instinct instead of scent. I rounded a corner—and froze.
Inside a large chamber, I saw Iris sprawled on the cold marble floor, her body trembling as Morgana’s magic gathered above her—searing flames twisting in the air, ready to reduce her to ashes.
My heart lurched.
She was seconds away from death.
Then something strange happened.
A sudden burst of white light erupted around her, scattering in countless glowing particles that danced through the air like falling snow. The flames halted mid-strike, repelled by an invisible barrier.
Iris gasped, eyes widening in pure shock. Even she hadn’t expected it.
But I knew better.
It was her arcane.
Her hidden power had awakened.
The aura wrapped around her like a protective cocoon, pulsing gently, alive—ancient and untamed. The light reflected in her silver eyes, making her look almost ethereal, as if she no longer belonged to this world.
I didn’t know when she had manifested her arcane. But one thing was certain—her life would took a drastic turn.
This had gone on long enough.
"ENOUGH!"
Morgana and Valerius stopped with their attacks.
I appeared before Iris and glanced at her.
The surprise on her face was unmistakable—wide eyes, parted lips—followed swiftly by relief.
A faint smile curved her mouth, fragile and fleeting, as if she feared I might vanish if she held it too long. Then her strength finally gave out.
Before she could collapse, I was already there.
I caught her in my arms, her body light against my chest, breath shallow, skin burning with lingering magic.
For a brief moment, everything else faded—the mansion, the anger, the stench of blood. All that mattered was that she was alive.
"Lord Vladimir! You came!" Morgana squealed, her voice shrill enough to pierce stone.
I grimaced.
If I didn’t need allies right now, I wouldn’t have spared her a single glance.
Her presence alone irritated me—the way she clung to me like a spoiled child, hiding her cruelty behind exaggerated smiles and high-pitched laughter.
"What are you doing?" I asked coldly.
My gaze slid past her, landing on Valerius.
"Didn’t I tell you not to harm them?" My grip tightened slightly around the unconscious girl in my arms. "To leave them alone."
Morgana’s eyes darted away. Her shoulders drooped, and she stared at the floor like a scolded child. The sight only fueled my anger.
Valerius stepped forward smoothly, positioning himself in front of her as if shielding a fragile treasure. "It’s not her fault," he said casually. "It was my idea to play with the she-wolf."
"Hey, Valerius..." Morgana moaned, clinging to his sleeve.
He didn’t even spare her a glance.
His attention remained fixed on me, lips curved in that lazy, infuriating smile I had come to despise. "You only wanted that human girl, right? The she-wolf isn’t important."
My eyes darkened.
"You brought her here," I hissed. "Even knowing she’s my human blood bank."
The words tasted bitter on my tongue. They all knew what that meant. Caroline wasn’t just some pretty toy—Vladimir needed her alive.
And yet they still dared drag her and Iris into this pit.
I had always been used to vampires bending to my will. No matter the rank, no matter the bloodline—they followed my orders without question. Authority came naturally to me, as effortless as breathing.
But inside this body, everything was different.
Reduced to nothing more than a vampire lord, my power meant little against others of equal standing.
Valerius. Morgana. Lords who answered to no one but themselves.
That was why they defied me so easily.
Why my commands held no weight.
Why my words fell on deaf ears.
To them, I was no ruler—just another like them in the dark.
But once I have my real body back, everything would fall into place once more.
