Chapter 35

We entered a grand hall resembling the circular chamber of a parliamentary stage. Audience seats rose steeply around us, encircling a central lodge that commanded attention. The chamber hosted about a hundred occupants, every seat filled. The majority of the audience wore black togas, while those seated in the lodge stood out in deep, bloody-red robes. There were five of them, their attire signaling their status as judges, an elite faction presiding over the court. The rest were likely court representatives, their black togas giving them a unified, ominous presence.

From the moment I stepped inside, one figure demanded my attention. Seated prominently in the lodge's central chair was a striking woman with blonde, almost white hair and eyes like shards of ice. Her beauty was as chilling as her stare, which pinned me in place the instant our eyes met. Her gaze, unyielding and intense, sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. And yet, beneath her formidable presence, I detected no outright hostility. Instead, her expression held a peculiar curiosity, as though she were dissecting my very essence. Then, unexpectedly, she smirked. The gesture was subtle, yet it left me breathless and awkward. I averted my eyes quickly, seeking refuge in Hadrian’s steady presence.

Hadrian, however, was glaring at the female judge, his jaw tight. Without a word, he took my hand and guided me toward a table on the courtroom’s right side. As we moved, I became acutely aware of the hostile energy emanating from the left side of the room. The sensation was sharp, like invisible knives pressing into the back of my neck. Instinctively, I turned to face the source and found a group of seven vampires seated at a table opposite ours. Their expressions dripped with contempt, their disdain for me unmistakable. I could almost imagine them rising from their seats and spitting in my direction to make their feelings known.

"Sit," Hadrian commanded, his tone brooking no argument as he pulled me toward a chair on his left.

I obeyed without a word, determined not to provoke anyone in this room full of vampires. On Hadrian’s right, Mr. Larkspur sat and passed him a folder brimming with documents. Hadrian thumbed through them with practiced ease before setting them aside and releasing a sigh. It was only then I realized the chamber had fallen into absolute silence.

I glanced nervously at Hadrian, noticing the faint smirk tugging at his lips as he turned his attention to the female judge. A silent exchange passed between them—his nod met by hers—and in that moment, it became clear that the proceedings awaited his permission to begin.

"The Night Council is now in session," the judge announced, her voice crisp and authoritative.

At her declaration, soft murmurs rippled through the audience, though the tension in the room remained palpable. The group of vampires opposite us continued to glare daggers in my direction, their expressions oozing disdain. Their contempt seemed to swell with each passing second, pressing against me like a suffocating weight.

"The House of Vexley has been accused of organizing illegal auctions, human trafficking, and the sale of illicit goods," the judge declared. "Warden Dorian Vexley, along with Quillon Vexley, Arlen Vexley, Percival Vexley, Zared Vexley, and Callan Vexley, how do you plead?"

The seventh figure at their table—a defense attorney as venomous as his clients—rose to his feet. His glare mirrored the animosity of the Vexleys themselves.

"Not guilty, Your Honor," he proclaimed, his voice ringing through the chamber.

The room erupted into a low commotion. Many of the audience members nodded in support of the defendants, their allegiance evident. My blood boiled, fury rising within me as I clenched my fists under the table.

Hadrian’s hand shot out, gripping mine firmly. He shoved it beneath the table and leaned close, his voice a low whisper. "Don’t make your emotions so obvious. If you want them to pay, cold calculation is your weapon."

I nodded, swallowing my anger.

"Relax," he murmured with a smirk. "Don’t say a word until I tell you to. Just sit back and enjoy the show."

A faint, strained smile was all I could muster in response. Enjoyment was the last thing I felt under the oppressive stares of the vampires surrounding us. Some eyed me with open disgust, while others wore predatory smirks, their gazes lingering with an unsettling hunger. My pulse quickened, my body betraying me as my scent began to permeate the air.

I tried to steady my breathing, desperate to calm myself, but the heightened whispers and gasps that followed told me it was too late. My scent had stirred something in them. I stared resolutely at the table, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

"Calm down, Thalassa," Hadrian whispered, his hand brushing gently over mine beneath the table.

His touch, though meant to reassure, sent a wave of tingling energy coursing through me, making it even harder to find composure. I forced a weak smile in his direction, though inside, I was fighting a losing battle against the chaos within me.

“No one can harm you here,” Hadrian said softly, his fingers still resting against my palm. “The most powerful vampire sits by your side, and no one dares to defy me.”

His words, low and assured, resonated with a confidence that seeped into my bones. I gazed into his eyes and saw the unwavering conviction behind them. He meant every word, and the intensity in his gaze seemed to pull my fears apart at their seams. My heartbeat steadied, the relentless pressure that had gripped my chest began to ease, and the tension locking my muscles loosened.

He smirked, withdrawing his hand, and though the fear drained from my body, it left behind a new, more dangerous sensation—arousal. I felt my pulse quicken, heat pooling at the base of my neck. Alarmed by the shift, I pinched my arm hard, willing myself to focus.

“The Lord Protector of Kessler, acting as prosecutor, will now present his case,” the judge declared, her voice sharp and measured as she gestured toward Hadrian.

“Thank you, Your Honor.” His lips curled into what resembled a smile, but his eyes remained as cold and unyielding as stone.

He rose with deliberate grace, every movement exuding authority, and made his way toward the defendants’ table. His steps echoed in the silent courtroom, each one a declaration of dominance. He fixed the Vexley family with a gaze so sharp it seemed to pin them in place, as though they were nothing more than insects beneath his boot.

“Your Honor, auxiliary judges, members of the Night Council,” Hadrian began, his voice steady and commanding, “I stand before you today to expose the heinous crimes committed by the Vexley family. For over a decade, they have relentlessly and without remorse spilled human blood, claiming countless innocent lives. They cloaked their atrocities in shadows, employing every method conceivable to conceal their barbaric practices. But as Monteforte Town’s protector, I left no stone unturned in uncovering the truth. The evidence I bring before you is irrefutable.”

His tone was clinical, his delivery detached, as he recounted the horrors of the Vexley family’s crimes. When he described the fateful night of the auction, it was as if he were narrating a story disconnected from the weight of human suffering. His words seemed stripped of emotion, leaving only the bare facts. Watching him, I couldn’t help but think about how different this was from a human court, where prosecutors often sought to stir empathy for the victims. Here, in this chamber full of predators, the value of human life was reduced to that of livestock.

I started to wonder if my testimony would matter at all. These vampires saw humans as nothing more than food; what difference would my words make? Even so, I pushed those doubts aside and forced myself to focus on Hadrian’s speech.

As he continued, his strategy began to unfold. He wasn’t appealing to their nonexistent compassion—he was appealing to something far more sacred to them: money. Each time he described another gruesome auction night, he punctuated it with a staggering figure, detailing the wealth the Vexleys had amassed. His words were sharp, calculated, and effective.

The room responded. A low rumble of angry murmurs spread like wildfire. Those who had once supported the Vexleys began to shift uncomfortably, their faces betraying feelings of betrayal. To them, the real crime wasn’t the loss of human life but the deception and greed of the Vexley family. My lips curved into a bitter smile. If their punishment came at the cost of swallowing this bitter truth, I was willing to endure it.

The tension on the defendants’ side of the room was palpable. The Vexleys were visibly seething. Their patriarch, Warden Dorian Vexley, kept his sons from leaping to their feet with a single, commanding glare. For a fleeting moment, I felt a strange sense of relief that their fury was directed at Hadrian instead of me. He seemed to welcome their hatred, thriving on it.

Hadrian’s movements on the courtroom floor were calculated and fluid. Each time he passed close to the defendants, he would pivot slightly, facing away from the audience, and flash a wicked, taunting smile at the Vexleys. It was as if he were provoking a caged beast, poking at their rage with deliberate precision. By the time he finished his speech, the Vexley sons were visibly shaking, their anger barely contained.

“Now, Your Honor,” Hadrian concluded, his voice calm and deliberate, “I would like to call the only living witness to the tragic events of the casino auction.” He turned to face me and extended a hand in my direction.

Every gaze in the room followed his gesture, locking onto me like a spotlight had been cast. My breath caught as the anticipation of the Night Council settled heavily in the air. Their eyes were keen, their expressions expectant, as though waiting for the next act of a carefully orchestrated performance.

Then I glanced toward the defendants. The Vexleys’ faces were twisted with rage, their fury boiling over. Their hatred hit me like a physical force, suffocating and unrelenting.

My subconscious let out a burst of hysterical laughter that echoed in my mind. This is going to be fun...