Yes—this terrified her.
It was a feeling Eira had never known before. Not just fear, but something deeper. And she was certain—it couldn't be good.
She struggled to break free from his grip, but Derick didn't let go. His eyes were still flickering—red, gold, then blue—and he seemed completely unaware of how tightly he held her.
Then he heard it.
Footsteps, distant but fast.
As a pure-blood vampire with royal blood, Derick's senses were sharper than anyone else's. He could hear even the softest footfall from miles away, and this sound wasn't soft. It was urgent. Eira didn't seem to notice anything, but Derick knew someone was coming—and soon.
His eyes still weren't stable, and he couldn't let anyone see him like this. Quickly, he tried to identify the presence heading toward them.
It was Vladimir.
Derick spoke to him silently, through the mind. Only a few vampires who weren't halfie had this gift—usually those born under the full moon of Luna, or ones like Derick, who were naturally born with the gift.
> "Vladimir." Derick called.
"What is it?" Derick asked. "Why are your footsteps so loud? And why are you headed my way with maids and guards?"
Derick's face darkened.
> "I'm sorry, Your Highness," Vladimir replied. "His Majesty... collapsed. On his way to the high court. And it's bad."
Derick stilled. A chill ran down his spine.
> "Where is he now?" he asked.
> "In the healing chambers. The physicians are still trying to figure out what caused it. There's no diagnosis yet."
> "I'll be there soon. Send the others away," Derick said calmly.
As Vladimir's footsteps changed direction and faded, Derick finally released Eira's hand.
Only to get slapped—hard.
> "How dare you!" Eira snapped. "Were you not taught to respect a lady's body? Who gave you the right to grab me like that—and lick my blood, you freak!"
Derick blinked.
By now his eyes were back to their usual calm ocean-blue now. Most vampires kept their red eyes showing just to scare others, but not Derick. His only turned red when he was enraged, hypnotizing, mind-reading, or utterly tormented, or when it's Sense danger or gives warning.
He looked at Eira, then gave a low, amused smirk.
> "What's so precious about your body, sweetheart?" he said mockingly.
Her eyes widened. Her cheeks flamed with both embarrassment and rage.
> "You—! You arrogant, tasteless jerk!" she hissed.
> "Easy now, little princess. You'll burst a blood vessel if you keep yelling like that," he said with another smug smile.
Eira clenched her fists, furious, then noticed something strange—his eyes. They were blue. Not red. Not gold. Blue.
Or was she hallucinating she was sure she saw three colors before now. But it's was a glimpse as Derick had hugged her.
She narrowed her eyes. She'd never heard of a vampire with blue eyes—let alone gold. Was this some kind of trick?
She gave him a final glare and stormed off. There was no way she was spending another minute near this insufferable man.
Derick watched her go without a word, then turned and headed toward the healing chambers.
When he arrived, the sight of his father almost knocked the wind out of him.
The once-powerful king looked so pale now. His face was hollow, his skin dull, his cheekbones sunken. Time and fatigue had finally caught up to him.
Derick sat beside him, quietly taking his hand.
This was it. The beginning of everything.
He was always calm, always indifferent—but his father had been the pillar that held the entire kingdom in place. The only reason his twisted siblings never dared act out was because they feared the king.
But now?
Now, that pillar had cracked. And with it, the war for the throne would begin.
Derick wasn't naïve. He knew exactly what was coming. Power would shift. Enemies would rise. His bloodline would be tested.
He had to act fast.
He couldn't wait for the contest to end. That would be too slow. Too risky. If he waited, the vultures would circle, and the kingdom might fall before he even had a chance.
He needed to choose a wife—now.
But who?
His mind flickered. And then... there she was.
That human princess.
Derick squinted, annoyed with himself, then chuckled softly. Was she really showing up in his thoughts now?
She wasn't bad. Amusing, even. If she were a vampire, he might not have hesitated to crown her queen. But she wasn't. She was human.
And that changed everything.
She'd die one day. She'd leave the kingdom behind. Why bother?
Then his mind drifted to Vyselle.
She wasn't bad either. She'd tried to get close to him all these years. Calm, elegant, soft-spoken. A woman who looked too delicate to even harm a fly.
And yet...
The human girl. She was bold. Fearless. Kind. Graceful. Charming. Beautiful, in her own way— With that delicate baby face and those striking hazel eyes. She carried herself like someone born to rule—without ever trying. She was the kind of woman he could tolerate.
She wasn't perfect. But she was... tolerable. And oddly interesting.
Still, she was human. That fact alone made the choice impossible.
Derick sighed and rubbed his temples.
No—he couldn't let humans close to him. He needed a queen who could rule with him for eternity.
After a long pause, he came to a decision.
He sent out orders—quiet, subtle ones—to stop the current contest.
Instead, he demanded a new challenge. One not based on charm or beauty. This one would test logic, war strategy, problem-solving, and emotional strength. He would watch. And from there, he'd choose.
He already had someone in mind. But this next test would decide if she truly fit.
Closing his eyes, Derick leaned back in his chair and began to meditate.
He wasn't afraid.
But he had his mother to protect, his enemies to outsmart, and a throne that could not be taken lightly.
Now, more than ever, he needed a clear mind—and a queen worthy of war.