"Have you had enough?!"
The voice was like a booming bell, deafening. There was no need to see its owner; from this uniquely imperious sound alone, every vampire in the ancient castle knew who was speaking. Fanatical reverence immediately flooded their expressions.
"My Lord Earl!" they cried out, their voices overlapping in a wave of devotion.
In the next moment, everyone from the guards to the middle-aged man in the tailcoat and Aler—not even Leaman was an exception—trembled in awe. They all turned, dropped to one knee before the man emerging from the castle's underground passage, and bowed their heads respectfully.
"The hair of the twelve Blood Kings. Give it to me," the handsome, middle-aged man commanded as he walked toward Leaman with rhythmic steps.
"Father!" Leaman stammered, swallowing hard in a panic as he kept his head low.
