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Fiona moved with purpose through the labyrinthine halls of the Vampire Palace, her mind focused on finding Lysander before he could carry out his scheme against Aphellios. Each step echoed ominously against the marble floors, a reminder of the peril that lay ahead. The corridors seemed endless, twisting and turning, each corner holding the potential for danger. Her heart pounded with anxiety, the urgency of her mission propelling her forward.

As she hurried past a corridor that opened onto the garden, her eyes were irresistibly drawn to an ethereal scene bathed in the light of the full moon. The newly blossomed cherry tree stood as if aflame with pink blossoms, their delicate petals glowing with an otherworldly radiance. Beneath the tree, a figure stood, his back to her, framed by the moonlight that filtered through the branches.

The sight took her breath away. The exquisitely handsome man, his silhouette haloed in silver light, appeared like a misty dream. For a moment, Fiona felt herself caught up in an illusion, the reality of her surroundings slipping away. The garden, with its soft rustling leaves and the faint scent of cherry blossoms, felt like a world apart, a sanctuary from the darkness that threatened Aphellios.

The man slowly turned, and Fiona's breath caught in her throat. His smile, so familiar and beloved, made her heart leap with joy and disbelief. Aphellios, her beloved, stood before her, not as the frail, cursed figure she had left behind, but as the vibrant, healthy man she had fallen in love with. His innocent smile and striking gaze were unchanged, as captivating as the first moment they met.

Fiona could no longer contain her emotions. She breezed toward him, her feet barely touching the ground, and leaped into his arms. The familiar warmth of his embrace enveloped her, and she melted into his touch.

"When did you recover? I knew it! You would come to find me no matter what," she cried, her voice choked with tears. She buried her head in his chest, the tears streaming down her cheeks and soaking his upper robe.

The arms around her were strong and steady, but something felt subtly different, a nuance that her desperate heart initially ignored. The embrace was familiar, yet it lacked the subtle nuances that marked Aphellios's touch.

Slowly, a cold realization began to seep into her mind. How could Aphellios, suffering from the deadly curse, have reached the vampire palace? Her heart wavered, and she pulled back slightly, looking up into his eyes.

The man's gaze was intense, his smile unwavering, but the familiarity was overshadowed by a sense of wrongness. As the reality of the situation hit her, Fiona's eyes widened in horror. This was not Aphellios. The man holding her was none other than the second prince of the vampire kingdom, whose soul was said to be taken by the Demon Lord, Aphellios.

"No," Fiona whispered, her voice trembling. She pushed against his chest, trying to break free from his grip. "You are not him. You can't be. You are not the Demon Lord."

The prince's smile remained fixed, a mask of Aphellios's innocent charm twisted by a sinister edge.

"Hmm?" he said softly, his voice eerily calm, "Who are you? Why is there a wolf wandering inside the vampire palace? How did you manage to get inside? Are you a spy?"

Fiona's heart raced as she struggled to process the enormity of what she was facing. This was the being who had caused so much pain and suffering, the one who had cursed her beloved. She felt a surge of anger and fear, her mind racing for a way to escape.

"Do I really need to explain that?" Fiona asked, her voice gaining strength. "Are you not aware of what happened to you in the past? Since you seem all recovered right now, you have probably already realized that there was something wrong with you all this time."

The man tilted his head, scrutinizing Fiona's every tiny movement.

"I have heard a bit from my maids about what happened to me. But why should I explain that to a wolf woman, sneaking into my personal garden? You have just mentioned about that Demon, haven't you? Is it the Demon Lord who sent you here to steal my soul again?" the second prince questioned.

"Aphellios never did that. It's your brother who's responsible for your suffering," Fiona protested right away. Her eyes carried the hatred she had for Lysander. "And I won't let you two hurt Aphellios any more."

The prince's eyes darkened, his smile fading. "You think you can fool me with these stories, little wolf? You have no idea what you are dealing with."

With a swift, forceful motion, Fiona broke free from his embrace and stepped back, her mind racing. She had to find Lysander, warn him, and find a way to protect Aphellios. Every second counted.

As she turned to flee, the prince's voice echoed behind her. "Run all you like, Girl. You can't escape the fate for stepping into my zone."

She ran through the corridors, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination. The palace seemed even more labyrinthine now, its dark shadows and echoing halls conspiring to disorient her. But she pressed on, driven by the desperate need to save Aphellios.