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Prologue end.

Orion found himself in a dilemma as Lady Agnieszka’s inscrutable gaze fell upon him. Her eyes held an enigmatic mixture of curiosity and calculation, making it challenging for him to discern her true intentions. Did she genuinely care about his condition, or was this inquiry merely a formal courtesy? The uncertainty gnawed at him as he grappled with his response.

The truth was, he was undoubtedly injured, and the pain weighed heavily on him. Every move he made sent waves of agony coursing through his body, but he couldn’t help but wonder if admitting his pain would make any difference in this mysterious world he had stumbled into.

In the end, Orion chose to downplay his suffering, attempting to maintain a facade of composure despite the pain that was a constant, unwelcome companion. “No, I am not,” he replied with a forced calmness, “Just... sleepy, is all.”

However, Alfred’s watchful eyes met Orion’s from across the room, and a sense of unease washed over him. Alfred’s voice cut through the room, its sternness echoing with authority as he addressed Lady Agnieszka, “My Lady.”

Lady Agnieszka’s response remained composed, her stoic demeanor unwavering as she inquired, “Yes, Uncle Alfred?”

With unwavering certainty, Alfred contradicted Orion’s statement, his tone growing even sterner as he stated, “The Potential has told you a lie. While I cannot deny that he may be sleepy, I can confirm that he is lying about not being in pain. He was beaten severely before I made it to him.” His unyielding gaze intensified in the dimly lit room, unwaveringly focused on Orion. “What you see is the result of a quick wash-up and pure stubbornness, I would suspect, My Lady.” As Alfred’s words hung in the air, a palpable tension gripped the room, awaiting Lady Agnieszka’s response to this revelation.

With a calm and measured tone, Lady Agnieszka addressed the matter of Orion’s lie. “Lying is not nice, you know,” she chided, her demeanor unwavering in its nonchalant elegance. She seemed to carry herself with an air of detachment that only deepened the mystery that surrounded her, as if the mundane concerns of the world had little impact on her.

Alfred, standing by, maintained his composed posture, his attention fixed on Lady Agnieszka as she sought an explanation. “I am not entirely sure,” he replied, matching her nonchalant demeanor, “but, in his defense, he is a mortal who has only just discovered our world. He likely did not wish to burden you further with the events of this night. It may have been a selfless act to spare you from worry, or a selfish one to conceal his pain.”

Lady Agnieszka’s gaze shifted back to Orion, her eyes unyielding as they bore into his. She spoke with stern authority, her words carrying the weight of expectation. “I do not care about your reasons,” she stated firmly, “but do not lie to me again. The truth is of utmost importance to me, and I cannot trust you lie to me.”

Orion nodded in understanding, fully comprehending the gravity of Lady Agnieszka’s words. “Yes, Lady Agnieszka, I understand,” he replied sincerely. His gaze, though, struggled to avoid wandering, fighting the curiosity and allure that her presence exuded. He focused on the walls and ceiling, anywhere but her, determined to maintain a respectful demeanor.

Orion couldn’t deny the undeniable allure of Lady Agnieszka. Her presence exuded an aura of warmth and refreshment, casting a soothing spell over his aching bones and muscles. It was as though her very essence had the power to push the pain to the recesses of his mind.

Yet, it wasn’t just her aura that drew him in; it was every detail of her being. Her lips, full and inviting, beckoned to him, while her curves and her bust accentuated her graceful figure. It was an allure that seemed to radiate from her, a magnetic pull that tugged at his senses. His every instinct urged him to succumb to the temptation before him.

However, Orion remained resolute. The physical pain he endured served as a stark reminder, allowing him to push aside the seductive calls of pleasure. Despite the overwhelming allure of Lady Agnieszka, he held onto his self-control, determined to navigate this enigmatic world with a clear mind and unwavering purpose.

After a brief pause, Lady Agnieszka turned her attention to Alfred, the ever-watchful concierge. “Alfred,” she called out in her authoritative tone. “I will take responsibility for the harm that has befallen him.”

Alfred, standing by her side, understood the implication immediately. “Yes, my lady,” he responded succinctly. With a subtle hand gesture from Alfred, everyone else in the room, including RightFang, departed without contest. The atmosphere shifted as they exited, leaving Lady Agnieszka and Orion alone in the room.

“It is with great shame you have come into harm before the date of your contract execution to my family, Orion,” Lady Agnieszka stated calmly, her tone betraying no emotion, yet her words carried an undercurrent of concern. “I do not take pleasure or comfort in seeing you struggle to stand before me, nor do I take pleasure in knowing an attack was made on you.”

Lady Agnieszka’s words carried a mix of nonchalance and an underlying emotional depth that resonated with Orion. While her demeanor remained stoic and composed, there was an undeniable sense of care and concern in her tone, a stark contrast to her otherwise enigmatic facade.

Orion found himself grappling with the weight of Lady Agnieszka’s words, his expression genuinely perplexed. “Sorry, I worried you,” he responded, although the apology felt reflexive, leaving him bewildered about its precise context. His usual office-bound existence had been drastically upended, casting him into an unfamiliar realm filled with vampires and other enigmatic entities. Despite his attempts to maintain an appearance of composure, an underlying tension knotted his right fist in his pocket, a subtle defensive posture. The notion of fighting his way out of this perplexing situation loomed as a formidable and nearly insurmountable challenge.

As Lady Agnieszka turned away and approached Alfred, Orion’s eyes were irresistibly drawn to her graceful movements. With each step, her figure moved with a captivating sway, the embodiment of sensuality and grace. Her gown, a masterpiece of elegance, clung to her curves in a tantalizing dance of fabric against her skin, leaving little to the imagination.

Every aspect of her presence seemed to exude an air of opulent sophistication, and the torchlight played upon her form, casting alluring shadows that accentuated her silhouette. Her figure, curvaceous and inviting, was like a mesmerizing symphony of delicate curves and graceful lines that seemed to transcend the boundaries of mere mortal beauty.

As Lady Agnieszka moved, it was as though the very fabric of reality itself yielded to her allure, bending to the seductive pull of her presence. Orion couldn’t help but be utterly entranced by her, his senses overwhelmed by the mesmerizing sight before him. Each subtle nuance of her movement, each tantalizing detail of her form, wove a spell that left him captivated and spellbound in her presence.

Orion’s trance was abruptly shattered as Alfred called out to him, his voice carrying a stern and commanding tone. “Orion,” he addressed firmly, “Lady Agnieszka has extended an opportunity for you to inquire about your current situation. This is your chance to ask any questions you may have. Focus on this opportunity rather than the distractions you may find in our surroundings.”

Alfred’s gaze bore into Orion with an intense seriousness, a stark contrast to the captivating aura of Lady Agnieszka. His words and piercing look brought the reality of the situation crashing back into Orion’s consciousness. He understood the gravity of the moment.

“Is honesty truly expected?” Orion inquired cautiously, needing confirmation. His voice carried a touch of uncertainty, but he knew that honesty was the only path to navigate the enigmatic world he now found himself in.

Alfred affirmed with a firm nod, “Yes, Orion. Lady Agnieszka has made it clear that she expects nothing less than complete honesty from you.”

Orion’s conflicted emotions weighed heavily on his face, his brows furrowing as he grappled with the multitude of questions racing through his mind. His thoughts clamored for attention, each vying to be the first to be voiced, but ultimately, he settled on one question that had been burning within him.

“Are you people crazy?” Orion’s voice trembled with a mix of pain and frustration, and his tone grew more impassioned. He had reached a breaking point, his aching body unable to contain his exasperation any longer. “Honestly, I like LARPing like the next guy. Especially when drop-dead gorgeous vampire ladies are involved. But at some point, I believe we have taken this a little too far.”

His statement caught Lady Agnieszka off guard, and she arched a delicate brow, the first hint of something resembling an emotion flickering across her face. “Alfred, what is ‘LARPing’?” she inquired, her voice tinged with confusion.

Alfred took a moment to address Lady Agnieszka and explain the concept of LARPing in the context of mortal fascination with their kind. “LARPing involves mortals pretending to be creatures of our world,” he began, his tone even and informative. “It’s similar to how Astria and Astrid used to dress in your clothing and pretend to be ladies when they were younger. Despite the inconvenience of the cleanup process, it brought them great joy in their youth.”

He continued, his voice carrying a subtle undercurrent of disdain, “Mortals engage in similar activities, but are often driven by perverted desires rather than a genuine appreciation for the complexities of our world.”

Lady Agnieszka, still displaying her composed but inquisitive demeanor, listened attentively to Alfred’s explanation. Meanwhile, Orion’s frustration mounted, and he raised his voice slightly to emphasize his growing exasperation. He began to provide examples of suspected vampire cases from history that had been debunked as hoaxes or misunderstandings.

Lady Agnieszka turned her gaze back to Orion, her eyebrows arching slightly in response to his outburst. “So, you believe we are engaged in such an activity?” she inquired, her voice laced with a hint of disbelief, her composure still unwavering, though her curiosity shone through.

Orion’s frustration bubbled over, and he raised his voice slightly, not out of disrespect, but out of sheer exasperation. He leaned forward, his shoulders tense, and his hands gestured wildly to emphasize his point. “What else can this be, ‘LADY’?” His tone was adamant, his eyes wide with incredulity. “None of this is actually real; I mean, it can’t be. Vampires, and Ghouls.” His voice carried a mix of disbelief and frustration, and his body language portrayed a man at the brink of his sanity, struggling to come to terms with the surreal world he had stumbled into. He went on to give verbal examples of suspected vampire cases that had been proven to be hoaxes or inaccurate, attempting to rationalize the situation as a mere fantasy or elaborate role-play.

Orion pressed on, his voice infused with unwavering conviction. “Remember the case of the Highgate Vampire in London?” He leaned forward, emphasizing his point, his eyes burning with determination. “It turned out to be nothing more than mass hysteria and stories spun out of control. And what about the vampire panic in New England in the 19th century? People blamed deaths on vampires, but it was just tuberculosis.” He paused for a moment, letting the weight of his argument settle in.

His impassioned words filled the room, challenging the very foundations of the world he had been thrust into. The silence that followed was profound, as Lady Agnieszka and Alfred absorbed the depth of his skepticism and his unwavering belief in the mundane explanations found in history books.

As Orion’s impassioned words echoed in the room, challenging the very essence of the world he now found himself in, Lady Agnieszka and Alfred exchanged a thoughtful glance. There was a pause, the silence heavy with the weight of his skepticism.

Alfred, always composed and measured, was the first to respond. “Orion,” he began, his voice calm but firm, “your examples are valid in the world of mortals, where superstition and fear often lead to irrational beliefs. However, the realm we inhabit is far removed from the pages of history books.”

Lady Agnieszka, her expression as composed as ever, added, “Our world operates by different rules, and the supernatural exists here, beyond the comprehension of ordinary humans.”

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Orion’s skepticism clashed with the undeniable evidence of his surroundings, a disconcerting tension that hung in the air. The room itself seemed to respond to the gravity of the moment as if it were an entity aware of the secrets concealed within its walls.

The reality of his situation remained a complex enigma, and as Lady Agnieszka and Alfred continued to stand before him, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was on the cusp of uncovering the truth or descending further into the enigmatic depths of madness.

Orion’s outburst had left him emotionally drained, and the pain coursing through his battered body was becoming increasingly unbearable. He couldn’t help but clutch his stomach, his face contorted in agony as he fought to maintain his composure. The room, bathed in the soft, flickering light of torches, seemed to close in around him, its eerie ambiance accentuating the gravity of the situation.

As he attempted to convey his desire to leave, he inadvertently provoked Alfred’s anger. The concierge’s gaze bore into Orion with fiery intensity, his words laced with an air of authority that seemed to reverberate within the very walls of the room. Orion met Alfred’s stare briefly, but the overwhelming pain and the intensity of the moment forced him to avert his gaze. He felt a palpable sense of unease as if he had stepped into an entirely different world—one that was both intriguing and perilous.

“One, you will never in your life call me Jeeves again,” Alfred declared firmly, and Orion, overwhelmed by the pain and the intensity of the situation, eventually lowered his head, his energy waning.

The concierge continued, stepping closer to Orion, his words carrying a weight that seemed to go beyond the present moment.

In the hushed ambiance of the torch-lit room, Alfred’s gaze locked onto Orion, his eyes piercing through the dimly lit shadows. Orion, weakened and aching, stood before the concierge, feeling vulnerable and exposed. The room seemed to resonate with an unspoken tension as if it were holding its breath, waiting for the impending exchange to unfold.

Alfred began to speak, his words cutting through the silence like a surgeon’s scalpel. Each word seemed to dissect Orion’s flaws and insecurities with surgical precision, leaving him emotionally exposed and raw.

“Orion,” Alfred’s voice was measured and deliberate, “you think yourself wise, yet you’ve stumbled blindly into a world you can’t fathom. You call it ‘larping,’ dismissing the very essence of our existence as mere playacting. Your ignorance is your greatest flaw.”

The torchlight danced ominously, casting eerie shadows on the walls as Alfred continued to dissect Orion’s character. His words were like icy tendrils, probing deep into Orion’s vulnerabilities.

“You’ve lived your life in a cocoon of mediocrity, clinging to illusions and false comforts. Your family, or what’s left of it, has forsaken you. Your father, a coward who abandoned his own blood, left you with a legacy of abandonment and rejection.”

Alfred’s words seemed to echo in the room, amplifying the emotional weight of the moment. The atmosphere grew heavier as if the room itself were pressing down on Orion, forcing him to confront his deepest insecurities.

“You have no purpose, no direction,” Alfred continued, his voice unwavering. “You’re adrift in a sea of mundanity, and it’s precisely this aimlessness that makes you vulnerable.”

Orion’s face contorted with a mixture of anger and hurt, but he remained silent, unable to refute Alfred’s accusations. The room seemed to constrict around him, its very walls closing in as if to intensify the impact of Alfred’s words.

Alfred paused for a moment, allowing the weight of his words to settle. The torchlight flickered, casting long, wavering shadows that seemed to dance to the cadence of his accusations.

As Alfred delivered his piercing words, the room seemed to pulse with tension, every corner echoing with the weight of his revelations. Orion stood there, his heart heavy with the truth he couldn’t deny. The torches cast eerie, flickering shadows on the walls, intensifying the emotional atmosphere.

“You had a life before now,” Alfred repeated, his voice unwavering. “An illusion, perhaps, but a life nonetheless. Your family,” he paused, letting the word hang in the air, “a father who abandoned you.” The words were like knives, cutting deep into Orion’s soul. “A mother who is neglectful,” he continued, each accusation a painful reminder of Orion’s reality, “and a sister you may never see again.”

Lady Agnieszka, her stoic demeanor unshaken, interjected with a simple utterance of “Alfred,” a word that held a world of meaning. Alfred, catching her subtle cue, softened his gaze and changed his tone, offering an apology for his earlier harshness. In that moment, the room’s atmosphere shifted, as if a veil of tension had momentarily lifted.

Lady Agnieszka’s intervention had quelled Alfred’s verbal onslaught, though his piercing gaze still remained fixed upon Orion. “Apologies, Lady Agnieszka,” Alfred acknowledged, his voice carrying a note of deference.

With her stoic demeanor intact, Lady Agnieszka slowly approached the two of them, her movements oozing grace and elegance. Her words, when they came, were like a soft melody, gentle yet carrying immense weight. “Orion has only just met you,” she addressed Alfred, “he might believe your words spurn from hatred and not love.”

Now standing face to face with Orion, Lady Agnieszka exuded an aura that mirrored Alfred’s, an intensity that bore down heavily upon him. Alfred, after a momentary pause, added, “It’s a matter of perspective really.”

“Perspectives, Orion,” Lady Agnieszka emphasized, her voice now laced with a seductive undertone that sent shivers down Orion’s spine. She moved with grace, her every movement accentuating her alluring figure. In a mesmerizing display, she allowed her fangs to extend, two pairs of them, two longer than the others, yet all four of them long enough to rest just outside her lips. Her lips, now accentuated by these elongated fangs, seemed to beckon with an irresistible allure.

Her gaze bore into Orion with desire and longing, her eyes turning a bright red with deep black pupils that seemed to penetrate into the very depths of his soul. It was as if she could see all his hidden desires and secrets, laying them bare before her.

Despite the intense sensations of lust and desire that washed over him, Orion’s pain acted as a grounding force. He clenched his wounded sides, using the physical agony as a counterbalance to the overwhelming allure he felt. The pain helped him resist the intoxicating pull of Lady Agnieszka’s sensual presence, reminding him that there were very real consequences to this surreal encounter.

Alfred, too, had undergone a transformation. His nails had taken on a claw-like appearance, and his eyes now shared the same vibrant shade of red, though perhaps not as intensely as Lady Agnieszka’s. He stood with his arms folded across his chest, his gaze piercing Orion to his core.

“You see, Orion,” Alfred began, his words heavy with meaning, “from our perspective, your world cannot exist, except under our feet. You mortals are only good for one thing—making war. Every other aspect of your lives has always been controlled by us.”

Orion’s thoughts swirled in a maelstrom of confusion and disbelief. The pain from his injuries was a harsh reminder of his physical vulnerability, grounding him in the harsh reality of the moment. Yet, the seductive pull of Lady Agnieszka’s presence continued to weave its enchantment around him.

The room felt charged with a potent mix of sensuality, allure, and a dark, forbidden desire. Lady Agnieszka’s transformation had unleashed a torrent of conflicting emotions within him. While her eyes burned with longing, Orion’s grip on his wounded sides tightened, using the pain as a lifeline to tether himself to his own reality.

Alfred’s piercing gaze, now tinged with a hint of pity, bore down on him. It was as if he understood the torment Orion was experiencing, torn between the world he had known and this enigmatic existence that defied logic.

As the seconds ticked by, Orion had a decision to make. To fully embrace this new, unearthly world or to fight against it with every ounce of his being, consequences be damned. The room, once so serene, had become a battleground of desires, perspectives, and the unknown.

As Lady Agnieszka’s seductive aura enveloped Orion, he couldn’t help but feel an internal heat building, as if his very core were aflame. His mouth began to water involuntarily, and a strange sensation of desire mixed with confusion washed over him. It was as if he were falling under her spell, his senses dulled and his judgment clouded.

Unbeknownst to Orion, his body was reacting to the subtle poison coursing through his veins, a poison orchestrated by the very beings who held him captive. The nausea hit him suddenly and violently, a cruel awakening from the trance-like state he had been in.

Alfred, ever watchful, noticed Orion’s distress. “There it is,” he remarked with a hint of grim satisfaction, confirming what they had anticipated. Lady Agnieszka’s expression remained stoic, but there was a glimmer of regret in her eyes. She knew what the current situation demanded, and it was something she didn’t relish.

“Ghoul contracts do not go active until the ghoul reaches the age of 21,” Lady Agnieszka explained, her voice tinged with solemnity. “Until then, the choice to serve our family or face death remains in your hands. I will never force anyone into servitude,” she added with a sincerity that cut through the tension in the room.

As Orion’s condition worsened, he stumbled backward and fell to the floor. His senses were fading, and he struggled to stay conscious. The voices of Lady Agnieszka and Alfred grew distant, muffled by the growing darkness that enveloped him. But he could sense that they were preparing something, something that would determine the fate of his life.

From his vulnerable position on the floor, Orion struggled to hold his head up as he felt his life slowly seeping from him, his world spiraling into an abyss of uncertainty. Alfred swiftly left for a side room in the chamber, leaving Lady Agnieszka alone with the ailing Orion. She gracefully lowered herself to him, cradling his weakening body in her arms.

Orion shivered at her touch, her skin icy cold against his feverish one. Her words reached him in disjointed fragments, his consciousness slipping in and out of focus. “Sorry... I am so cold, I am saving myself for you,” she whispered in a sensual tone, her words a mixture of comfort and desire. She did her best to nurse him, her touch delicate and soothing, as he teetered on the brink of death. The lines between reality and delirium blurred, and Orion’s world became a surreal and fragmented dreamscape.

In the dimly lit chamber, Lady Agnieszka leaned in close, her voice a sultry whisper caressing Orion’s ear, “My Crimson nectar, a gift freely offered, but only if you accept it.” Her breath, cool and inviting, danced against his skin like a secret promise.

She began a seductive dialogue, weaving a tale of salvation through vampire blood. She spoke of the fine line she walked between her desire to save him and her unwavering commitment to the rule of consent. Already breaking one rule by turning him weeks before his 21st birthday, she was unyielding in her stance on this matter.

“It is a matter of utmost importance,” she purred, her voice a sensuous melody. “You will hold a pivotal role in my house and clan, but I will let you drift into the abyss if that’s what you truly desire.”

With a tantalizing flourish, she pierced her own finger with her elongated fang, a single droplet of crimson blood welling up. She extended her finger tantalizingly close to his parched lips. “Alfred is preparing for the ritual, but you need me now,” she breathed, her words laden with desire and a hint of desperation. “And this moment is meant for you... Just take it.”

Orion lay still at first, his consciousness teetering on the brink of oblivion. But deep within, a fierce longing stirred, and with every fiber of his being, he fought against the encroaching darkness. One thought surged in his mind: “LIVE!”

Summoning every ounce of strength, he reached for Lady Agnieszka’s offered finger. With trembling hands, he brought it to his mouth, his lips closing around her digit, and he began to suckle with an insatiable hunger. The taste of her blood was like an intoxicating elixir, coursing through him, reinvigorating his weakening body with each luscious drop. In that fleeting, passionate moment, he made a choice, and he chose life.

As Orion suckled on Lady Agnieszka’s offered finger, he was enveloped by an intoxicating wave of sensations. The moment the hot and warm vampire nectar touched his tongue, a shiver ran down his spine, and a low, pleasurable moan escaped his lips. It was as though he had awakened a dormant desire he never knew existed.

The taste of her blood was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was a symphony of flavors, simultaneously sweet and savory, with a hint of something indescribably exotic. Each drop sent a surge of heat coursing through his veins, igniting a sensual fire within him that he couldn’t contain.

For Lady Agnieszka, too, there was an undeniable sensuality to the act. Her eyes darkened with desire as she watched Orion’s fervent consumption of her nectar. It was a unique form of intimacy, a connection forged through their shared passion and need.

As he continued to drink, the pleasure intensified, like an electric current of desire and vitality coursing through him. Orion’s heart raced, his senses heightened, and he felt more alive than ever before. The boundaries between them blurred as they shared in this intimate act, a dance of sensuality and survival that transcended the ordinary world.

altered by the irresistible allure of Lady Agnieszka’s crimson nectar. It was a dance of ecstasy and vitality, a communion of desires that defied the boundaries of mortality. As Orion clung to her finger, lost in the sensual pleasure of the vampire blood, he felt a profound transformation sweeping through him.

Every cell in his body seemed to come alive, resonating with newfound strength and vigor. The pain that had once wracked his body began to dissipate, replaced by a sensation of invigoration and renewal. It was as if Lady Agnieszka’s blood held the power to heal not just his physical wounds but also the scars of his past.

Their connection deepened with each passing moment, a shared intimacy that transcended words. Lady Agnieszka leaned in closer, her cool breath brushing against Orion’s ear as she whispered softly, “You are becoming one of us, Orion. Embrace the gift of life, and you shall know pleasures and power beyond your wildest dreams.”

Orion’s mind was a whirlwind of sensations and emotions, a heady mix of desire, fear, and exhilaration. He couldn’t deny the allure of this new existence, the promise of immortality and the secrets of a world that had remained hidden from him. With a final, longing pull, he released her finger, panting and flushed with newfound vitality.

As Alfred returned, Lady Agnieszka slowly withdrew her fingers from Orion’s mouth, her cool touch leaving a lingering sensation on his lips. Though the poison had been halted, he was still in a dire state, barely able to discern the figures before him.

“I figured they would attempt a poison just in case their beatings didn’t succeed,” Lady Agnieszka remarked, her voice tinged with a hint of disdain.

Alfred considered her words for a moment before replying, “Which cup shall we fill for his first time? I have brought them all.”

Orion’s consciousness was slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers. He could no longer stay awake, his senses fading into an abyss of darkness and dreams. All that remained was a rich iron taste that transformed into something sweet, a tantalizing dance through an endless void of red and black.

In that surreal moment, he felt like he was soaring through the very fabric of existence itself, a state where reality and dream merged into one. He pondered whether this was the sensation of dying or the birth of a new life, but in that moment, the distinction hardly seemed to matter.