Chapter 58: Throne of Blood

The doors opened into a massive hall.

The ceiling stretched high above me, supported by thick black pillars carved with ancient symbols. Long red banners hung down the stone walls, swaying slightly in the warm air from dozens of burning torches placed around the room.

The hall was filled with vampires.

Music echoed through the chamber—drums and deep string instruments creating a wild, chaotic rhythm. The atmosphere felt less like a royal court and more like a dark celebration that had gone completely out of control.

To my left, groups of vampires were tangled together on large cushions and couches, drinking, laughing and moaning loudly, indulging in reckless sexual pleasures without caring who watched.

To my right, several half-clothed women stood or knelt beside vampires, willingly offering their necks while the vampires fed from them. Some of them looked dazed, others strangely calm, as if they had given themselves completely to the moment.

The smell of blood mixed with wine filled the air.

At the far end of the hall were two massive seats placed on a raised platform.

One was large.

The other was even larger, built like a throne.

But both of them were empty.

I walked straight down the center of the hall.

No one paid any attention to me at first. They were too busy with their drinking, feeding, and celebrating.

So I kept walking.

I reached the raised platform.

And without hesitation, I sat down on the larger throne.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then one of the vampires who had been feeding on a woman nearby looked up.

His eyes narrowed.

He shoved the woman aside so abruptly that she fell to the floor.

“What the—”

Before he even finished speaking, he launched himself at me from across the room.

But I was already moving.

I stood up just as he reached me.

The moment he came within reach, my hand shot forward and grabbed his throat mid-air.

Gasps erupted around the hall.

Then I jumped.

High.

Higher than any human could ever jump.

And as I came crashing back down, I slammed his body hard onto the stone floor in the center of the hall.

The impact echoed like thunder.

A loud crack followed.

His neck snapped instantly.

Silence spread across the chamber.

Every vampire in the hall stopped what they were doing.

The music died.

The feeding stopped.

All eyes turned toward the center of the room.

Toward me.

One by one, they began to gather around, forming a wide circle as they stared at the dead vampire lying on the floor and the stranger standing over him.

I stood over the broken body in the center of the hall and raised my voice.

“Father!”

My voice echoed across the massive chamber.

“Father! Your progeny is here!”

I turned toward the throne again, but by now the crowd of vampires had closed in around me. Their bodies blocked the view of the raised platform completely.

So I spoke again.

“If any of you wish to die right now, get in my way.”

Then I started walking.

The threat was enough.

One by one, they stepped aside.

The crowd slowly parted, forming a path as I moved forward. Some of them hissed quietly, baring their fangs, but none of them dared touch me.

I climbed the platform again and sat back down on the larger throne.

The entire hall was silent now.

All they could do was stare.

Some hissed.

Some growled under their breath.

But none of them moved.

Then suddenly…

I felt it.

An aura.

No.

Two of them.

Two powerful presences entering the hall behind me.

One was strong.

The other was far stronger.

The air itself seemed to grow heavier as they approached.

Every vampire in the room reacted instantly.

They all backed away from the center of the hall, retreating toward the far walls as if some invisible force was pushing them back.

But I didn’t turn around.

I stayed seated on the throne.

Then I heard the voice.

It sounded ancient.

Deep and calm, but filled with a weight that felt older than the building itself… older than the city… older than the world I knew.

“Father… Father?”

The voice echoed slowly through the hall.

“Who dares call me father?”

Footsteps approached.

Then the figure stepped in front of me.

And there he was.

Count Adesina.

He stood tall—taller than almost everyone in the hall—and his presence alone made the air feel tense and dangerous.

At first glance he didn’t look older than thirty.

But there was something about him that screamed ancient.

His eyes were the most unsettling part.

They looked like they had watched the rise and fall of empires, like they had witnessed centuries of history without blinking.

He had a low beard framing a sharp, chiseled jawline.

His clothing was simple but imposing—a long armless black leather jacket that hung down his sides, paired with fitted black jean pants.

Everything about him radiated power.

And authority.

He stopped a few steps in front of the throne.

And looked directly at me.

He stared at me for a long moment.

Then he spoke.

“Stand up.”

I didn’t move.

I just kept staring at him from the throne.

His expression hardened.

“Get up.”

This time his voice thundered through the hall.

The command carried the weight of absolute authority.

So I stood.

I stepped forward until we were almost face to face, so close I could feel the cold breath leaving his mouth.

For a moment neither of us spoke.

Then suddenly he smiled.

A slow, amused smile.

He walked past me and sat down on the larger throne behind me.

The hall remained silent as he leaned back like a king reclaiming his seat.

Then another figure approached from behind him.

The Countess.

She moved with calm, effortless grace. Her skin was pale and flawless, almost glowing under the torchlight. Long black hair flowed down her back like silk, and her eyes were sharp and calculating, watching everything around her.

She wore a long dark crimson gown that hugged her figure before spreading out slightly near the floor. The fabric looked expensive, decorated with thin golden patterns along the sleeves and collar. Around her neck rested a delicate black choker with a small ruby at its center.

She looked elegant.

Dangerous.

And very much aware of her power.

She glanced at me once and gave a small smirk before sitting down beside the Count.

The Count looked at me again.

“I thought you were dead.”

I stretched my arms slightly.

“As you can see,” I said, “I’m not dead.”

He chuckled softly.

“You have so much courage,” he said. “I’m almost proud of you.”

I tilted my head.

“So you like me now, huh?”

The smile vanished from his face instantly.

“Never.”

His voice turned cold.

“You are a mistake,” he said. “You never should have been made.”

His eyes hardened as he continued.

“You are a curse to our race.”

I let out a quiet laugh.

“And you are a coward.”

The words echoed across the hall.

The Countess turned her head slightly toward me.

“You sent your minions to kill me,” I continued. “When they failed, you sent your own daughter after me.”

I took a step closer.

“And she failed too.”

The hall felt colder.

“And now she has abandoned you.”

I could see it clearly now.

The anger rising in his eyes.

Before the Count could say anything else, the Countess suddenly spoke.

Her voice was sharp and filled with cold amusement.

“You are a fool,” she said, her eyes fixed on me, “just like your mother.”

The hall went silent again.

“I remember her very well,” she continued with a cruel smile. “What a whore she was.”

My jaw tightened.

“So quick to open her legs for any man that offered her a few sweet words.”

Her smirk widened.

“She was foolish enough to believe my husband would take her as a wife.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Just as you are foolish enough to walk in here… without fear.”

Her words cut deeper than I expected.

For a brief moment, anger burned through my chest so strongly that my vision almost blurred.

But before I could react—

Movement erupted in the crowd behind me.

Two large vampires forced their way through the hall, dragging a man between them.

The man was bound in silver chains.

They threw him violently onto the stone floor in front of me.

He looked terrible.

His body was covered in wounds. His clothes were torn, and dried blood stained his face and chest. He struggled weakly against the chains, clearly exhausted and barely able to stand.

The Count leaned forward in his throne.

“Babatunde.”

The man slowly lifted his head.

“I thought you and Juliet killed the Dhimpir.”

Babatunde glanced at me for a moment.

Then he lowered his eyes to the floor.

The Count’s voice turned colder.

“You made a fool of your Count… and of this entire court.”

The hall remained silent as everyone watched.

“I trusted you, Babatunde,” the Count continued. “You were supposed to be one of my most trusted friends.”

His expression darkened.

“But if there is one thing I’ve learned in all these years…”

He slowly rose from his throne.

“…it’s that people will always betray you when given the chance.”

He lifted his hand slightly.

Two vampires immediately stepped forward.

They grabbed Babatunde and snapped the silver chains apart, then seized his arms and forced them outward, holding him in place.

The Count walked down from the platform.

Then he gave another quiet command.

“Turn him.”

The vampires forced Babatunde to face me.

When they forced him to face me, I finally saw his face clearly.

And I remembered him.

He was there that night.

Standing beside Juliet the day they attacked me in my house.

The man looked at me and gave a weak smile.

Almost like he already knew what was about to happen.

Before I could say anything—

The Count moved.

His hand shot forward and drove straight into Babatunde’s chest.

The sound was wet and brutal.

Gasps rippled through the hall.

The Count’s arm disappeared deep inside the man’s body for a moment before he ripped his hand back out, holding a still-beating heart.

Babatunde’s eyes went blank instantly.

His body collapsed to the floor.

The color drained from his skin as life left him.

The Count casually tossed the heart aside like it was nothing.

Then he lifted his blood-covered finger and pointed it directly at me.

“Now it’s your turn.”

His voice was calm.

“If you want something done right… you do it yourself.”

And then he attacked.

He moved faster than anything I had ever seen.

One moment he was standing several feet away.

The next moment his fist slammed into my face, sending me crashing across the hall.

I rolled across the stone floor but forced myself back up instantly.

I lunged at him.

Our fists collided like two crashing storms.

I punched him across the jaw.

He barely moved.

He grabbed my arm and threw me into a pillar, the stone cracking from the impact.

Pain shot through my ribs, but I pushed off the wall and charged him again.

We fought across the hall.

Punch after punch.

Kick after kick.

Every strike I landed felt like hitting solid rock.

He was too strong.

Too fast.

Too experienced.

Every time I thought I had an opening, he countered with something worse.

He grabbed my throat and smashed me through a table.

I rolled across the ground and tackled him, driving him back several steps.

For a brief moment I thought I had him—

But then his fist slammed into my stomach.

The air left my lungs.

He grabbed the back of my head and drove his fangs deep into my neck.

The pain exploded through my body.

I cried out as he bit down harder, feeding while holding me in place.

My strength started fading.

Then he threw me.

My body slammed across the stone floor again.

Before I could recover—

He jumped.

And landed directly on my chest.

The impact crushed the breath from my lungs.

Then the punches started.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Each blow felt heavier than the last.

“Die!”

His fist slammed into my face.

“Die!”

Another punch.

“DIE!”

Blood filled my mouth.

My body was too weak to fight back anymore.

My vision blurred.

The hall around me faded.

And I just lay there… waiting for death.

I looked to my side among the vampires cheering, and there she was—my mother—dressed all in white, smiling at me. Tears rolled down my face as I took in the sight. In that moment, amidst the chaos, I felt a strange mix of relief and sorrow.

Then the Count came towards me again, his eyes burning with fury, and I instinctively closed my eyes, preparing for the final strike, waiting to be with my mother in what I feared might be the end.

Suddenly, a fast sound cut through the hall, sharp and urgent, followed by the Count’s voice shouting, “Brother, what do you think you are doing?!” Before I could even react, I was lifted off the floor. My body felt weightless, almost floating, and I opened my eyes to see the Count lying on the floor, a pointed knife stuck deep in his stomach, his expression twisted in shock and disbelief.

In front of me, the scary man from the gate—the one who had been my guide earlier—was carrying me, his arms strong and steady. The chaotic cheers of the hall faded behind us as he navigated through the vampires, moving swiftly to safety. I felt the tension leave my shoulders slightly, though my heart still pounded from the fight and the Count’s presence looming just moments before.

He burst out of the hall, crashing through the chaos of the vampire celebration. Vampires were leaping across rooftops, firework sparks flew into the night sky, and the giant bonfire’s flames licked the air, but he didn’t hesitate. With a roar of strength, he slammed through the massive gates of the estate, splintering wood and sending debris flying.

He skidded to a stop beside my car. I could feel the surge of vampires behind him, a dark, living wave of fangs, claws, and glowing eyes moving fast, hungry and relentless.

“Hurry! Get out of here!” he shouted, urgency laced with regret. Before I could react, he shoved me into the driver’s seat, grabbed the ignition, and helped me start the car. The engine roared to life. He pulled the door closed, and his eyes met mine, filled with something I couldn’t name—guilt, fear, love.

“I’ll hold them back. Get out of here!” he said. “I’m sorry for everything, okay? I’m sorry… I’m your real father, not him. It’s me. I’m sorry for abandoning you… now please, go!”

Through the windshield, I could see a flood of vampires rushing toward the gates, a swarm of shadows and snarling faces, all intent on stopping us. Without hesitation, I reversed the car, tires screeching on the pavement as I sped away from the estate.

Glancing into the rearview mirror, I saw his silhouette standing alone against the oncoming tide. He moved like a hurricane, fists, feet, and whatever he could grab striking vampires with terrifying precision. Every blow sent a vampire crashing to the ground or skidding across the estate grounds. He was holding them at bay—a single man fighting a legion—while I escaped.

I clenched the wheel, my mind racing. What just happened? Who is he really? That figure in the night—the man claiming to be my father—was holding back an entire army of vampires to save me.

It can't be... him? My real father?