The King’s Pressure
The Vampire King’s throne room loomed like a dark cathedral, its towering stone walls draped in banners bearing the sigil of his ancient bloodline. The air was suffocating, thick with the weight of his dominance. Even the flickering torches seemed dim in his presence, their flames dwarfed by the crimson glow of his eyes. Adrian stood before the throne, his posture rigid, his face impassive, though his clenched fists betrayed the storm within.
“You’re failing me,” the King growled, his voice a cold rumble that resonated in the cavernous chamber. The sheer weight of his tone crushed any potential for argument. “Your incompetence is becoming an embarrassment.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding as he forced himself to remain composed. “I’m working on it,” he said, his voice steady but low. “The twins are careful. They don’t leave trails.”
The King leaned forward slightly, his imposing figure casting an elongated shadow that seemed to swallow Adrian whole. His crimson eyes narrowed with disdain. “Excuses,” he hissed, his tone sharp enough to cut. “You’ve had weeks. If you don’t bring me results soon, I’ll take matters into my own hands.”
Adrian inclined his head slightly, the motion respectful though his chest burned with frustration. “Understood.”
The King’s lips curled into a sneer, his expression as unforgiving as his words. “Do not mistake my patience for leniency, Adrian. Your loyalty is not optional. Remember that.”
Adrian’s shoulders stiffened at the thinly veiled threat, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he turned to leave, his steps deliberate and measured even as his thoughts churned like a maelstrom. But before he could exit the throne room, the King’s next command froze him mid-step.
“Send in the knights,” the King ordered, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “Bring me the twins alive. Kill anyone who protects them.”
Adrian’s breath hitched, but he forced himself to keep walking, his face a mask of calm. Inside, however, panic surged. The King’s knights were notorious for their brutality and their unwavering loyalty. They would follow the order to the letter, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. If they found Lyra and Eryon, there would be no escape. And Adrian knew all too well what awaited those who crossed his father.
As the heavy doors of the throne room closed behind him, Adrian stepped into the corridor, the weight of the King’s orders pressing down like an iron yoke. For the first time, doubt crept into his mind, whispering thoughts he had never dared entertain before. The King’s wrath was absolute, but so too was his own growing conviction that Lyra and Eryon didn’t deserve to be sacrificed to the King’s hunger for power.
Adrian’s fists unclenched as he leaned against the cold stone wall, his mind racing. If he defied his father, it would mean more than betrayal—it would be a declaration of war against the very foundation of his life. Everything he had ever known, every shred of protection his bloodline afforded him, would be stripped away.
But if he didn’t act, the twins were doomed. And the idea of standing by as they were dragged into his father’s grip was unthinkable.
Adrian pushed off the wall, his jaw set, his crimson eyes gleaming with determination. He was out of time—not just to find answers, but to make a choice. For the first time, Adrian realized that loyalty to the King might cost him more than disobedience ever could.
