The air in the Vampire Lord's estate was heavy. Ancient portraits watched in silence, their painted eyes gleaming faintly in the flickering candlelight that lined the corridor. The air smelled of polished oak, age-old secrets, and iron — like history itself had soaked into the walls.
Liam stood before the grand double doors of his father's chamber. He hadn't seen his father in weeks. The last time, their conversation had ended with a sentence that still haunted him:
"It is time you become what you were born to be — a Nightwalker."
Now that moment had come.
He clenched his fists, forcing his shoulders to stay steady. Every nerve in his body screamed that this was the right thing — for his clan, for their legacy. But his heart twisted with one thought: Alex.
He could already hear his father's deep, commanding voice echoing inside the chamber.
"Enter, my son."
The doors opened on their own.
