DAY OF THE NOBLE GATHERING

As they made their way down the grand corridor toward the ballroom, the sound of laughter and music grew louder. The walls of the palace were adorned with tapestries depicting the kingdom’s proud history, and gold chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, illuminating the room with a soft, golden glow. The air was thick with perfume, rich conversation, and the clinking of glasses.

Moira stepped into the ballroom, her heart pounding in her chest. She was met by different noble faces she hadn't seen before, each one eager to be seen, eager to impress. The men wore elaborate coats and brocade, while the women were draped in gowns of silk, tulle, and satin, their jewels glittering in the light.

Leander was already at the center of the room, standing tall in his dark black royal robe.

He exuded power, but there was a quiet intensity in his eyes as he scanned the crowd. His presence dominated the space, and everyone made way for him. When his gaze fell upon Moira, a flicker of something passed through his eyes—something possessive and protective.

Moira caught his eye. Despite her unease, she walked toward him, trying to steady her breathing. He took her hand into his and touched it softly.

“May I have this dance?” Leander’s voice was smooth, and he leaned slightly toward her, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Moira stared at him in surprise; that's the first time he will be asking for something politely. Even his smile—he doesn't smile; that's the first time she has seen him smile.

Moira hesitated for a moment before nodding; she doesn't want any drama, as she knows what he can do. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

They moved onto the dance floor, the crowd parting around them. Moira felt the weight of every gaze on them, but she focused on Leander, trying to remain calm. She wasn’t the type for parties, but she had to endure. All eyes were on them, people wondering who she was—a human that caught the king's attention.

The king has always been known for being heartless. He doesn't feel or care about anything; different women have come his way, and all have failed.

Leander held her waist firmly yet gently, leading her effortlessly across the floor. His eyes were on her, and she could feel the intensity of his gaze.

You don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself,” Leander said, his voice low, almost teasing. “Are you uncomfortable?”

Moira managed a soft smile. “It’s just… a lot. I’m not used to all this attention.”

Leander nodded, his gaze softening. “I understand,” he said, his voice quiet. “I'm here. Just feel relaxed.”

Meanwhile, across the hall, Lyla's eyes narrowed as she watched Moira and Leander dance. A mix of frustration and envy tightened her chest. She glanced over at Lucy, far away from her, who was eyeing the couple with a calculating look in her eyes. Their shared motive was clear: they both wanted Leander, and they would stop at nothing to get what they wanted.

The hall buzzed with excitement as the maids started serving glasses of wine and block to the guests.

The atmosphere was lively and fun. The nobles appeared to be in high spirits as they raised their glasses in celebration.

Moira stood near Leander, her posture stiff as she tried to compose herself.

A maid approached with a tray of wine glasses, offering one to Moira.

"Milady," the maid said softly, a bow to her head.

Moira smiled faintly before she took the glass with a nod of appreciation. The cool wine touched her lips as she took a sip, the warmth of it spreading slowly through her chest. She isn't a fan of wine but had to calm her composure.

Lucy, who had been watching Lyla with a knowing look, caught her gaze immediately after Moira drank her wine. They exchanged a quiet, brief glance—something hidden and dangerous behind their eyes.

Lyla, who had been standing near a maid holding a tray of drinks, seized the opportunity. Without hesitation, she took another glass from the maid. Her hands were slightly trembling, excitement creeping in her chest.

Lyla and Lucy's gaze was fixed on Moira; they observed her and her movement closely. Moira, on the other hand, was still caught up in the crowd, her attention distracted by the music, the laughter, and the dance.

Minutes passed, and as the night wore on, Lyla began to feel a slow, creeping sensation of heat building within her.

At first, it wasn't much, but then it increased. Her skin felt too hot, her head beginning to spin. She stumbled slightly, trying to regain her balance.

Lyla was used to drinking wine, but this felt different. She pressed a hand to her forehead, feeling the sweat bead on her skin. The room around her seemed to spin, the lights growing too bright, the faces around her blurring. She took a few steps, trying to push through it, but the dizziness was overwhelming.

Trying to regain her composure, Lyla excused herself quietly, stepping away from the crowd. She pushed past a few guests who barely noticed her, their laughter drowned out by the pounding in her ears. She made her way to the edge of the hall, trying to focus, but it was growing harder and harder to move.

And then, just as her vision swam, a pair of strong hands grabbed her arms. Lyla tried to push them away, but her strength had drained away, her body too weak to resist.

Lyla's mind was clouded, and her body too limp to fight back as two men—large, imposing figures—pulled her away from the crowd. They moved swiftly, dragging her past the guests who were occupied and didn't notice what was happening at the moment. The noblemen continued their conversations, unaware that the woman they had just seen a moment ago was now being dragged out of the hall by strangers.

Lyla tried to speak, but her words came out slurred, and her vision blurred further as she stumbled along with them.

"Where are you taking me?" she managed to ask, her voice weak and trembling, but the men said nothing.

She wanted to scream, to call out, but the heat was consuming her. The world was spinning faster and faster, and she could barely keep herself upright as they moved her through the corridors.

Soon, they reached a door, and the men kicked it open. Lyla barely registered the room as she was shoved inside. Her head hit the doorframe, but the men didn’t care.

The men pushed her onto the bed, her limbs too weak to resist, and she collapsed into the white covers. Her mind swirled with panic and confusion.

Back at the party, Moira was already tired; she told Leander she was already leaving before she left the hall to her chamber.

Lucy's gaze moved around trying to look for Lyla but couldn't see her. She thought probably she was somewhere enjoying the party. Just then she saw Leander alone; Moira wasn't by her side, and a dark smirk appeared on her face. She moved towards where Leander stood with his glass of blood in his hand.

"Your Highness, may I have a dance with you?" Lucy said with a sweet smile.

"Isn't it weird, asking a man for a dance, Lady Lucy?" Leander said it loud enough for people to hear. This caught people's attention; they turned to look at Lucy, laughing out loud, making things worse for her.

Leander didn't even give her a second look before he walked out on her.

Lucy's face reddened; she felt so embarrassed in front of many people.

****

(Thomas Chamber)

Thomas sat on a chair beside the large bed, feeling so hot that beads of sweat could be seen all over his body.

A few hours ago a maid came to serve him the coffee he requested. Not long after he drank it, he started feeling strange sensation. At first he brushed it off, thinking it was nothing serious. But after he dressed up and was fully ready for the party, it started getting out of hand.

Thomas, being a vampire, thought he could fight it off, but it was beyond what he could control.

Someone drugged him, and the person used something very powerful for him, not the regular one used for humans. Who could have done this? The thought of it made him so furious that he swore to kill the person with his bare hands.

He pulled off his clothes, went to the bathroom, and soaked himself in the bathtub filled with cold water, thinking it would subside, but it didn't. His eyes turn as red as blood. He groaned in pain as he was so hard that he couldn't control his sexual urge.

Just when he was about to take his fifth bath, from the bathroom he heard the door of his chamber open.

"Fuck! I didn't lock the door," Thomas cursed; he didn't want anyone to see him in this state.

He left the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist only to meet a woman on his bed. Her hair scattered on the bed as some strand covers her face, her thigh was exposed with the way she lay on the bed. The neckline of her gown was so low that Thomas could see half of her breast.

"Fuck," Thomas cursed, holding his breath.

"I'm so hot," the woman murmured softly, her hand finding its way to her gown and starting to pull it off.

Thomas couldn't take his eyes off her body; he watched her like a predator observing its prey.

As she strips herself slowly, the scene only makes his condition worse. In the blink of an eye, Thomas got to grab her bare waist and kissed her so fiercely that he could taste her blood.

They were so close that there was no space in between them; Thomas could feel her pointed nipples on his chest.

"Touch me, please," she said softly, feeling a strange sensation down.

His hand moved down to her p***y, rubbing it before he slipped his index finger into me, and she moaned uncontrollably as he shoved it in and out of her.

"Ohh," she moans softly.

With his other hand he fondled her breasts gently before his mouth made its way to her nipples as he sucked on them passionately.

Gently, he rubbed her p***y with his big shaft.

“Oh, uhh,” she moaned in between gritted teeth.

He slammed aggressively into her, and her voice rent the air as she screamed.

"Ahh," she winced in pain.

Thomas groans in pleasure as she is too tight; the wall of pussy grips his d**k so firmly.

He didn't wait for her to adjust to his length; he started moving so fast as he was so blinded by pleasure.

He continued slamming into her. It was so hot and fierce that she couldn't even keep up with his pace. He was a vampire; he was fast and strong, and she, on the other hand, was human.

After an hour, he turned her over, her ass faced him, and he continued shoving his shaft in and out of her.

This continued till she passed out, but Thomas didn't stop thrusting in until the effect of the drug subsided.