The blade pressed against Nova's throat gleamed faintly in the dim light, its edge a whisper away from piercing skin. Vutagon Mondanza's grip was steady, deliberate, his expression carved into a mask of cruel, sharp and predatory, lingered on her face as though savoring her fear.
Two of his goons loomed over Cipher's frail form on the bed, their shadows stretching long across the walls, suffocating the room with their presence. Four more stood to the right, jagged weapons glowing faintly, their eerie light pulsing like the heartbeat of the fortress itself.
Mondanza's grin widened, wicked and triumphant. "I told you I would hunt you," he sneered, his voice dripping with malice.
"And what a fine reunion this is—the gate protector, Rendell Graves, and the lonely rogue vampire hunter." His laugh was sharp, echoing like broken glass.
"What a jackpot I've scored." Each word was a dagger, sending ripples of dread through Asher and Ren. This was not a man to be underestimated. This was a predator who thrived on despair.
"Do you remember my words?" Mondanza taunted, his tone mocking, savoring the silence that followed.
Fear coiled tightly in Ren's stomach, a serpent constricting his breath.
Asher stiffened beside him, his jaw clenched, his eyes locked on Mondanza with a mixture of fury and restraint.
Ren forced himself to speak, his voice careful, deliberate. "Vutagon Mondanza," he began, each syllable chosen with precision. "You've got us. But these two are not part of our conflict. Take us—punish us however you see fit—but let them go."
Mondanza's smirk deepened, his amusement swelling. "Good try." He tilted his head, mocking, his gaze flicking to his men.
"For starters, you failed to address me properly. What am I called?" His voice rose, commanding. His men answered in unison, their voices booming: "Lord Mondanza!"
He chuckled darkly, turning back to Ren. "You have no right to negotiate." His grip on Nova tightened, and then, slowly, deliberately, he leaned in and licked her cheek. Nova flinched, disgust flashing in her eyes, but she remained silent, her defiance buried beneath the weight of his cruelty.
"She is more valuable than gold itself," Mondanza whispered, his tone dipping into sinister delight.
"I have many plans for her. And I'll lay them out for her—she can choose to marry me." His grin widened, grotesque. "Or I could trade her for something very valuable. Or…"
He traced the blade along her jawline, the steel kissing her skin. "I could kill her right here."
His laugh echoed, predatory, filling the room with horror. "Or," he continued, savoring the dread, "she could choose to be shared among my men."
The silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with despair. Ren's fists clenched, his body trembling with the urge to act, but cold logic held him back. Any rash move would doom Nova and Cipher instantly. Mondanza's cruelty was not bluster—it was a promise.
Mondanza shifted his attention, his gaze settling on Asher. "Asher Kade," he mused, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
"I've always known you were here. I didn't bother seeking you out—I waited in the shadows, knowing Rendell would come looking for you." He paused, savoring the moment.
"So here's what we're going to do. Surrender your weapons peacefully—if you don't want these two to die immediately."
Asher locked eyes with Ren. Ren shook his head slightly, the silent exchange heavy with resignation. They both knew there was no fighting out of this—not without sacrificing Nova and Cipher. Mondanza tilted his head, his grin widening. "I won't ask again."
Slowly, reluctantly, Asher and Ren dropped their weapons to the ground. The clank of steel against stone echoed like a funeral bell. Mondanza smirked, his satisfaction palpable. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" He snapped his fingers. "Ludaman. Granada. Tie their hands."
His men moved swiftly, binding Asher and Ren's wrists with thick restraints that bit into their skin.
"Now," Mondanza continued, his voice dripping with satisfaction, "start moving downstairs." Asher and Ren obeyed, falling into line, their steps heavy with defeat.
"Ludaman," Mondanza called again, gesturing toward Cipher. "Carry the injured girl. We have new guests underground."
---
Meanwhile, deep within the fortress, a Govanda vampire rushed through the dim corridors, his breath uneven. He knelt before the faction leader, his head bowed low.
"My Lord," he said reverently, his voice trembling. "The Queen of the Guls is at the gate. She demands to meet you."
Lord Dramada raised an eyebrow, his expression barely shifting. His voice, rough as grinding stone, echoed through the hall. "And why," he rumbled, "would she want to meet me?"
The messenger kept his head lowered. "She says the message cannot be relayed. She must deliver it in person."
Dramada exhaled, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his throne.
"Ambitious," he muttered, his tone laced with contempt. "I have never liked her. Always scheming." He hesitated, then leaned forward, his gaze sharp. "Fine. Let her in."
T1 bowed deeply, three times, before turning sharply on his heel. The fortress operated in a strict hierarchy—messages relayed from one officer to the next like clockwork.
"T2," the command echoed, "relay to T3." Orders moved swiftly, precise as gears in a machine. At last, the gates of the fortress trembled as they opened.
"Gate one—open!" The heavy iron doors split apart in a butterfly formation, revealing Queen Victoria standing with four Guls—two stationed at each side. She stepped forward with elegant precision, her presence unwavering. Behind her, the first gate creaked shut.
"Gate two—open!" Again, the formation repeated. Then gate three. When Queen Victoria finally entered the main fortress, her escorts remained outside, statues of vigilance. T1 retreated as she strode further in, the sound of her heels clicking against the stone floor, each step echoing authority.
Lord Dramada watched her approach, his gaze unreadable. "Welcome, Victoria," he said, his words edged with intrigue. "I wonder what desperation has dragged you to my fortress."
Queen Victoria clenched her fists, but masked her emotions quickly. She needed him—more than she cared to admit.
"I don't know if I should be pleased or offended by such a greeting," she replied, forcing a smile.
Dramada's lips curled slightly. "Oh, I see you haven't changed much."
He gestured lazily to a nearby chair. "You may sit—or stand. The choice is yours."
Before she could respond, he continued, his voice dropping a note, menace lingering beneath the surface. "But tell me—what urgent matter brings you here, at night—when you know it is when I am strongest? You must be bold, Victoria, to step into my domain when I could snap your head with ease."
His words hung in the air, thick with threat. Queen Victoria lifted her chin, her pride clashing with necessity. She had anticipated hostility, but she was prepared.
The Govanda vampires were night stalkers—primitive yet lethal. Though the Guls had evolved beyond them, they lacked the same raw power. And she knew it. Yet, despite their differences, Dramada was essential to her plan. So she swallowed her pride.
"I did not come here to exchange threats," she said coolly. "I came to make an offer."
Dramada leaned back, studying her, his gaze piercing. "Then speak," he demanded.