Chapter 3
Meanwhile, in another shadowy attic in Larkspri, Dragan Wilde, a ridiculously distant descendant of Count Dracula and the youngest vampire in Lioren, was sipping from a blood pouch with an unhappy expression.
In all two hundred years of his life, he'd never been this depressed.
Back then, he had been welcomed within the royal courts of Virelheim, dressed in tailored formalwear while dining on the fresh blood of nobles alongside royalty and elites.
After escaping to Lioren, everything turned upside down.
No castles, no fancy noble blood. He survived inside a dark attic, relying on animal blood purchased online and venturing outside only in the dead of night.
To be safe, he coated himself in cheap sunscreen whenever he went outside, terrified that the morning sunlight might reduce him to ash.
He thought the Coven's life couldn't get any sadder than this.
Then one of the vampires burst into the attic, clutching a phone, voice trembling with panic. "Dragan, something terrible happened. Luke got filmed by humans, and now millions of people have seen it online."
Dragan set down the blood pouch with practiced elegance and scoffed. "Idiots. Werewolves never know how to stay hidden. They're gonna get everyone exposed someday."
Then he watched the video. Luke was sitting there eating sandwiches while looking miserable, and the comments were all calling him cute or praising the "special effects".
Dragan froze.
He thought, 'Wait, weren't humans supposed to be scared of us? Not only weren't they afraid, they actually thought we were cute. They thought vampires and werewolves were nothing more than visual effects and scripted performances.'
This discovery left the Shadow World in shock and confusion.
Deep within the old district lived Wolfgang, the former Alpha, who had survived for eleven centuries. When he heard the news, he was chewing on a stale piece of bread.
When he heard what happened to Luke, his beard practically bristled with rage. He slammed his claws onto the table hard enough to nearly shatter it.
He said, "This is humiliating. A warrior of the Silvermoon Pack reduced to begging humans for food and allowing himself to be publicly humiliated? This is a disgrace to our kind."
Aldrick, the twelve-hundred-year-old vampire elder, turned deathly pale after hearing the news. Even the bats clinging to his cloak stirred restlessly.
He said, "The glory of the Wilde family survived centuries of persecution, only to be endangered by a reckless werewolf. Luke is nothing less than a traitor to the Shadow World."
They all reached the same conclusion almost instantly. The human behind the videos had to be stopped before centuries of secrecy collapsed overnight.
However, what they didn't expect was that Bryan would move faster than they could.
*****
Three days later, Bryan's TikTok account, ShadowCast, dropped its second video.
This time, the backdrop wasn't some dark alley. Bryan had rented and decorated a temporary Gothic-style hall for the shoot.
Black drapes hung along the walls, fake candle stands flickered in the corners, and imitation marble tiles covered the floor. It was low-budget, yet somehow the atmosphere worked perfectly.
Bryan sat in a black chair, wearing a plain T-shirt and jeans, looking chill.
Across from him was a man with a ghostly pale face and a slender build, decked out in retro Victorian formalwear.
His skin was pale, his nose sharply defined, his lips faintly colorless. Long hair was tied neatly behind his head, and his distant gaze carried the unmistakable elegance of old-world nobility.
The subtitles appeared clearly across the screen: [Special Guest: Dragan Wilde, Count Dracula's descendant.]
Bryan grinned at the camera. "What's up, guys? You all met our werewolf guest last time, so tonight, we're trying something new.
"We've got an actual vampire aristocrat here. Get ready to meet the most ridiculously good-looking creature in the Shadow World."
The camera zoomed in, focusing on Dragan.
Bryan said, "Come on, Dragan, say hello to everyone."
Dragan took a deep breath and forced himself to maintain the refined composure of two centuries of aristocratic upbringing. He bowed slightly with a flawless smile. "Hello, everyone. My name is Dragan Wilde."
He looked exactly like the immortal noble he had always been.
And then everything went wrong.
As he spoke, his fangs slipped out a bit and accidentally tapped the mic Bryan handed over.
The sharp sound rang out with crystal clarity through the video.
Everyone froze.
Bryan and Dragan were both stunned.
The moment the video dropped, it blew up on TikTok.
[Did anyone else catch that sound?]
[His fangs hit the mic.]
[Vampire aristocrat had a major fail on camera.]
[Bro stayed classy for exactly three seconds. LOL.]
[Those fangs are way too realistic. The props are next level.]
Dragan looked paler than before.
In two centuries of existence, he had attended Virelheim's grandest royal balls, shared wine with Napoleon, and charmed countless nobles without ever embarrassing himself once. He had always been the most elegant figure in the room.
And now, he had somehow been defeated by a tiny microphone in front of millions of humans watching online.
The shame was unbearable. It felt worse than being burned by sunlight.
Dragan leaned in, lowering his voice so only Bryan could hear, speaking through clenched teeth. "Your microphone is far too close. Move it away from me."