Chapter 55: The Lake That Devours
The moment Vladimir stepped into the library, the hum of whispers fell into reverent silence.
Students turned—first out of curiosity, then out of awe.
The women sighed dreamily.
The men straightened instinctively, admiring him from afar.
Tall, lean, impossibly poised, Vladimir carried with him a refined, aristocratic air that made it difficult for anyone to look away.
Every step he took was elegant—an effortless grace that seemed carved from old, noble bloodlines.
"That’s... the vampire prince?"
"Shh—he’s not actually a prince, but haven’t you seen anyone look that good?"
"I heard he’s top of the class."
"Lord Vladimir is in a league of his own..."
"He’s intimidating... but I want to try talking to him."
"You? Look—other girls are already approaching!"
A small swarm of elegant students drifted toward him like moths to a flame.
"Lord Vladimir, senior, are you busy?"
"Lord Vladimir, won’t you sit with us?"
"We have a question—could you help us?"
"Lord Vladimir, could you explain this lesson?"
He stopped. Turned. Forced a small, polite smile.
In truth, he loathed being approached like this. Their scent, their muddled auras, the shallow pulse of their intentions—he could endure all of it only with the aid of potions filtering out the overwhelming stench.
But for his goals, he needed allies. The old him—cold, indifferent, unapproachable—would not suffice.
"I’m simply here to read," he answered mildly.
The women swooned.
"Sit with us, senior!"
"No, sit with me!"
"Lord Vladimir, please—"
Their rising voices grated on him. His patience thinned.
I should’ve asked someone to bring the book to my room, he thought bitterly. Peace was a foolish hope.
He opened his mouth to respond—when icy wind swept through the room.
Whispers died.
Lights flickered.
The air thickened with ancient displeasure.
And then—
Zephyros appeared.
The ghost’s presence spread like a shadow draped across the shelves, his expression cold, lethargic, and thoroughly unimpressed.
"Annoying brats," he said flatly. "I will ban every one of you if you turn my library into a marketplace again. This is not a place for noise or chaos."
Students paled.
"Tsk... the ghost is here."
"Shh! Do you want him to punish you?"
"I heard some students disappeared because of him... worse lost their minds."
"Such a shame—handsome, but terrifying."
"Don’t get on his bad side..."
One by one, they scattered until the room was empty.
Zephyros finally turned to Vladimir, frowning deeply.
"I see you still attract chaos wherever you go, Lord Vladimir."
Vladimir’s forced politeness vanished at once.
"If you hadn’t been busy roaming around stalking a particular student, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place."
Zephyros blinked, offended. "The last time I checked, I am not chained to this library. I guard it at night, not babysit it during daylight."
"Then why are you here now?"
"Because I had no desire to listen to screeching children while I rest. And why, pray tell, do you care whom I watch?"
Vladimir’s voice sharpened. "Many students—and even the staff—have noticed that you’ve grown particularly fond of a certain girl. If you don’t keep your distance, you’ll have her outcast."
Zephyros’s expression turned storm-dark. "Leave me out of your petty politics, vampire. I tolerate you because you’re students of this academy. But I—and the Coven of Midnight—remain neutral in your wars."
Vladimir chuckled. "My, my. I think it may already be too late. You, of all beings, should consider choosing a side, Zephyros—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
Warmth—sharp, urgent—ignited beneath his ribcage.
The drop of blood he had placed inside Iris reacted violently.
Danger.
His expression hardened.
Without a second thought, he vanished, the library echoing faintly from the force of his departure.
Zephyros blinked, scandalized. "Huh? Did... did he just—"
His eye twitched. "How rude! A noble vampire with ancient bloodline but not a shred of courtesy to finish a conversation! Unbelievable!"
====
{IRIS}
Help.
The scream tore through my mind, but my mouth could not form the word.
My lungs could not draw breath.
Why was no one helping me?
Did no one see me being dragged into the lake?
Cold water forced its way into my throat. My body thrashed, but the grip that dragged me downward was relentless—like hands made of water itself.
I tried to move.
I couldn’t.
I tried to breathe.
I couldn’t.
The lake swallowed me whole.
What is happening?
A voice slipped into my skull—too soft, too close, too wrong.
"You have such clean energy," the voice murmured silkily. "How delicious you must be. Eating you will strengthen my arcane... quite nicely."
A woman’s whisper.
A predator’s delight.
Her breath—cold as the depths—touched my ear though the sound echoed inside my mind.
No!
No, no, no!
I couldn’t scream.
I couldn’t fight.
I couldn’t even beg.
Pathetic.
Weak.
Useless.
My vision dimmed, consciousness fraying.
Is this... how I die?
Drowning in a lake?
As the darkness closed in, a foreign memory crashed into me—
A young mermaid dragged from the sea. Chained. Beaten. Sold.
Her beauty treated like a curse.
Then a woman with white hair and amethyst eyes intervened. Saved her.
Since then, she was alone in this lake, guarding, and waiting.
Lord Val... I’m sorry...
My thoughts dissolved.
Until—
Something warm slashed through the water like lightning.
A cyclone of blood—thick, and crimson—spiraled into the abyss, wrapping around me like a living cloak.
It lifted me upward, tearing me from the creature’s grasp.
I broke through the surface, choking, gasping.
And the first thing I saw—
Was Lord Val’s face.
His expression—angry, desperate, relieved—blurred through my tears.
He held me with one arm, steady and safe. With the other, he strangled the creature who had dragged me under.
She was breathtakingly beautiful—long flowing hair like liquid sapphire, crystal blue eyes, scales that shimmered like polished gemstones, a tail that rippled with impossible grace.
Water curled around her as if worshipping her.
But in his grip, she writhed, hissing like a serpent.
They stood—or floated?—in a secluded bank of the lake, that I didn’t know. It must be a restricted area for it was so unfamiliar with me.
Vladimir’s blood encircled her, forming a scarlet barrier that trapped her in the air.
"Why are you harming students, Sirene?" Vladimir’s voice was low, lethal. "It is against protocol."
Sirene laughed weakly, even as his hand tightened on her throat.
"My, my... Lord Vladimir in the flesh. First the ghost, and now you? As I thought... there’s something strange about this girl."
His eyes narrowed—silver shifting into a deep, blood-red crimson.
Power thrummed through the air, suffocating in its intensity.
He was furious.
More than I had ever seen.
"I think you want to die," he whispered. "Allow me to help you."
His grip tightened.
I forced my trembling hand upward, wrapping my fingers around his wrist that held her.
"M-My Lord..." My voice cracked. "Don’t... please... she’s... just... she’s just... lonely..."
He glanced at me.
Something in his fury wavered.
I felt her emotions—wild, tangled, desperate. A longing so consuming.
A longing to live.
A longing to die.
But can’t do both.
I sometimes felt this emotion with Zephyros too.
"She only wanted... someone..." I whispered weakly. "Please... don’t kill her..."
And then darkness swallowed me again.
