CHAPTER 14: SIT

It wasn’t until she felt herself being lifted off the horse and set down with her feet barely touching the ground that Aria opened her mouth to speak, her glare sharp and ready. But just as she parted her lips, she gasped—Zyren picked her up again the very next moment, effortlessly raising her into the air like she weighed nothing.

Her eyes instantly widened at the scene unfolding in front of her.

Rows of servants lined the long walkway, which was carefully decorated with blooming roses. Each petal seemed deliberately placed. Behind the servants stood tall men, their stances rigid, their presences exuding power. Their aura felt similar to Zyren’s—domineering and suffocating.

Even the sheer size and elegance of the mansion before her was enough to steal the breath from her lungs. The towering structure, with walls that gleamed like dark stone and windows arched with carved metal frames, loomed over everything with regal menace.

Then Zyren’s voice rang out, loud and absolute. It wasn’t just volume—it was the force behind it that made the ground beneath her feet tremble slightly, and her ears sting like they’d been struck.

"This is Aria! She’s my pet!" he announced with a wild look on his face, his voice slicing through the still air. "I expect everyone to be on their best behavior!"

The moment he finished speaking, she felt her feet return to the ground with a dull thud, the fabric of her skirt swaying as she steadied herself.

But she didn’t look at him.

Her gaze was locked on the sea of people before her. Heads bowed, eyes averted. The sheer amount of power she could sense from the ones standing was enough to tell her these weren’t just guards—they were something else entirely.

The servants, many of whom looked human, were kneeling low, their heads pressed to the earth as if praying to a god. Still, a few dared to glance up at her, their gazes quick and uncertain.

But what truly stunned her was the shift in the air.

The moment Zyren said her name, a heavy feeling of animosity filled the air. It wasn’t subtle. And worse still—it didn’t come from the servants. It radiated from the ones standing near the mansion’s entrance, the ones who looked the strongest.

Aria remained frozen in thought, still processing, when she felt her arm suddenly being pulled forward. Zyren dragged her along, but before she could speak, another voice called out just as he stepped forward.

"My Lord!" the man said with a low, respectful bow before lifting his head.

"Lord Noctare! You seem to have something to say!" Zyren responded, and even Aria was startled by the dangerous undertone in his voice. He made no attempt to conceal it. The threat was clear enough to make Lord Noctare visibly hesitate.

He looked just as young as Zyren, which didn’t surprise her. Vampires stopped aging once they reached a certain point of strength. The more powerful they were, the more youthful they appeared, regardless of their true age.

But there was something unsettling about this one—his red eyes were slightly translucent, a strange gleam to them as he first looked at her, then turned back to Zyren.

"The journey must have been inconvenient. I can have someone prepare your bath and—"

"It’s fine! I’m sure there are many things you have to tell me! We’ll head to the grand hall!"

Even as Aria was pulled along, her senses remained on high alert. She absorbed everything like a sponge—every step, every look. What terrified her the most was the fear that seemed etched into everyone’s bones. It wasn’t the normal kind of fear. It was deeper.

They bowed the way they were supposed to. But it was the way they looked at him, as though they had once witnessed something they never wanted to see again.

’Who knows! Maybe he killed someone close to them!’ Aria thought, the idea sliding into her mind like a dagger. Meanwhile, Zyren’s grip on her wrist grew tighter as he pulled her deeper into the mansion.

They had just passed the gates when another voice broke through the tension. One of the vampires flanking them spoke up, this one more brazen than the rest. He didn’t bother to hide his disgust as he looked her way.

"The human comes with us?" he asked, his tone sharp and disdainful.

Aria could feel the atmosphere shift again. All eyes suddenly moved to her, a storm of silent judgment.

She looked at Zyren.

Yes. He had brought her here to toy with her. And she had followed with the intention to kill him but there was no reason his demands couldn’t wait.

She had been on horseback for hours. Her legs ached so badly the sides of her thighs felt scraped raw from the saddle. Her body reeked of sweat. Her hair clung to her neck, coated with grime and dust that clung to her like a second skin.

She knew it wasn’t good to bathe too often since it could make one sick—but right now, even she was aware of how badly she needed one.

But Instead of letting her go, she kept being pulled forward in Zyren’s unrelenting grip, even as every step she took was met with hateful stares from the ones behind them—stares that looked like they wanted to burn her out of existence.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the hall.

The moment she stepped inside, Aria’s mouth dropped open in pure, breathless shock. The grand hall was nothing short of magnificent—massive walls reaching upward like the interior of a cathedral, crystal chandeliers glistening with candlelight. The entire room shimmered with luxury.

She froze, eyes wide, only to stumble forward as Zyren jerked her ahead again.

Whatever anger she had bottled up during the ride began bubbling again, more violent with every second spent in Zyren’s presence. He tugged her without a second thought, his grip burning like iron around her wrist.

It was insane. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t broken her wrist already. And by the time he let go, she knew it would be bruised, dark and ugly.

Still, she kept quiet, a trace of anxiety coiling in her chest as the powerful men who had followed behind them began to take their seats. Five chairs, arranged in two neat rows beneath the stairs, each man seating himself with practiced elegance and silent pride.

Zyren moved toward the staircase that led to a high throne, and she was dragged up behind him.

Her eyes were drawn to the throne immediately. It was enormous, more a monument than a seat. Inlaid with shimmering gems and priceless stones, it gleamed in the dim light. Just the chair alone looked like it cost more than her entire village had ever possessed.

She couldn’t stop staring.

Zyren had just settled into his seat when she watched him turn to look at her. His voice cut through her thoughts like a whip. "Sit!" he ordered

But unlike before, this time around Aria didn’t hesitate.

Her eyes still blazed with fury, but she moved, lowering herself to the ground beside the throne, knees pressing against the cold stone floor, and sat in silence.

She waited for him to mock her—waited for the smirk or a sneer.

But when she looked up, she was a bit startled by what she saw, which was completely different than what she expected.

Not amusement but Displeasure. She was trying to figure out why when his gaze shifted—to the four lords seated below. The ones whose names and titles she was about to learn.