The vampire royal palace in Transylvania rose from the Carpathian Mountains like something carved from darkness and old stone.
It was ancient, imposing and older than any human kingdom still standing.
Inside it, the dining hall stretched vast and cold yet adorned by luxury furniture and decorative items that only timeless vampiric wealth could get.
King Alaric Lysander sat at the head of the long dinning table and a young woman stood beside him, her arm extended, her face devoid of any readable expression as the king's fangs pierced her wrist.
Blood flowed and the king leaned in and began to drink elegantly.
As he did, the woman didn't flinch neither didn't she react, instead, she just stood there like a statue, waiting for the king to finish.
A few minutes into the feeding, the massive doors at the far end swung open.
Footsteps echoed across the floor and
King Alaric's eyes flicked toward the entrance, registering the newcomer.
