Aria stood tall, her posture rigid and her face an unreadable mask, as she stared down the vampire before her.

  The dark-haired girl with scarlet eyes—who, just moments ago, had let slip a veiled threat in that childish, mocking tone—now pressed her lips into a tight, tense line.

  Her tiny fists clenched so hard her nails dug into her palms, a trickle of crimson blood seeping between her fingers and dripping slowly to the ground.

  “What did you just say?” The question hissed from her mouth, low and sharp, as her face twisted into a smile that never reached her eyes.

  It was a grin of pure, trembling rage—like she was swallowing a scream. Her fangs glinted briefly under the faint moonlight filtering through the branches.

  Aria didn’t flinch. Her gaze locked onto the vampire, unwavering.

  “I said, take me back to the mansion,” she repeated in that same flat, icy monotone—like giving directions to a servant who’d misheard the first time.

  The vampire let out a dry, choking laugh, almost a gasp, as the blood from her hand kept flowing.

  “You… giving me orders?”

  Her voice quaked with fury, and the dripping blood stopped abruptly as the gash in her palm sealed itself shut, the skin knitting together with a faint reddish glow that vanished as quickly as it appeared.

  She flexed her fingers a couple of times, testing them, but her eyes never left Aria.

  “You really think you can boss me around, kid?”

  Before Aria could answer, a subtle movement caught both their attention.

  The shadow beneath the vampire’s feet shivered, as if it had a mind of its own, and a calm voice rose from it—soft but steady, a stark contrast to the charged air.

  “Please, miss… calm down.”

  The vampire whipped her head downward so fast her dark hair lashed like a whip.

  Her scarlet eyes narrowed in annoyance, her mouth twisting into a sneer.

  “Stay out of this!” she snapped, jabbing an accusing finger at the shadow. Her voice was a childish shriek laced with an authority that didn’t quite match her pint-sized frame. “Keep quiet!”

  The shadow didn’t budge. Instead, its voice returned, now edged with a seriousness that felt like a warning wrapped in politeness.

  “Miss… if you take this little prank any further, it won’t end well. For any of us.”

  The vampire opened her mouth to snap back, but the words caught in her throat.

  Her shoulders stiffened, and for a fleeting moment, her eyes widened, betraying a flicker of unease that hadn’t been there before.

  She clenched her fists again—though not hard enough to draw blood this time—and her gaze darted between the shadow and Aria, as if debating who to yell at first.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “What… what nonsense are you spouting?” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else, as her right leg took an unconscious step back.

  Aria, still as stone until now, tilted her head slightly to one side, her eyes dissecting the vampire’s every twitch and hesitation.

  “Are you going to make me repeat myself?” she asked in that unshakable, even tone—a frigid calm that sliced through the air like a blade.

  The vampire spun toward her, fangs flashing as she ground her teeth so hard a faint crack echoed from her jaw.

  “You…!” she growled, raising a trembling finger at Aria.

  That smile crept back, now a wild grimace brimming with barely-leashed anger.

  “You’re lucky, you know that? Lucky I’ve got stuff to lose, because if I didn’t…” She paused, sucking in a sharp breath through her nose, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “I’d rip you apart right here.”

  Aria didn’t blink. Her face remained a blank slate, as if the threats were just hot air not worth a reaction.

  Without breaking eye contact, she spoke with that same unshaken calm.

  “Then take me back.”

  The vampire let out a strangled noise—half a yell, half a tongue-click—loud enough to bounce off the trees.

  “Tch! You’re insufferable!”

  She whirled toward her shadow, pointing at it accusingly while her other hand clutched her chest, like she was trying to cage the fury boiling inside.

  “You! Drag her back to that damn mansion, now.”

  The shadow beneath her feet quivered again, then stretched and took shape.

  Slowly, as if rising from a pool of liquid ink, a figure materialized in front of Aria and the vampire.

  It was a girl, roughly María’s age. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, with a faint shimmer that caught the moonlight.

  Her long, night-black hair fell in messy strands brushing her shoulders, and her eyes were a deep, steely gray—like they could swallow whatever they looked at. She wore a simple robe of woven shadows, rippling faintly as if made of smoke.

  The moment she appeared, the girl dipped her head in a graceful bow—first to the vampire, then to Aria.

  “At your command,” she said, her voice soft but firm, laced with deference.

  She stepped toward Aria, extending a hand with long, delicate fingers—but before she could get closer, Aria raised a palm in her direction.

  “Stop,” Aria ordered, her voice cold as ice.

  The girl froze mid-step, lowering her hand with a slow, obedient motion.

  Her face showed no surprise or irritation—just an absolute, practiced calm.

  The vampire, on the other hand, couldn’t hold it in.

  “Why are you listening to her?!” she shrieked, stomping toward the girl with her fists balled at her sides.

  Her childish voice trembled with rage, her scarlet eyes blazing with disbelief and fury.

  “Don’t obey her! I’m your mistress!”

  The shadow-girl turned her head toward the vampire, and for a split second, her lips twitched into a faint grimace—like she wasn’t sure how to respond.

  Finally, she dipped her head lower, letting her hair veil part of her face, and murmured in a near-whisper.

  “Mistress… if we don’t get her back in a way she’s okay with…” She paused, flicking a quick glance at Aria before continuing even softer. “She could rat us out.”

  The vampire’s brow furrowed, her mouth opening to argue—but before she could, Aria cut in with that unshakable, frosty calm.

  “Do you know Esmeria?”

  The shadow-girl’s head snapped up, and for the first time, a spark of nervousness flickered in her gray eyes.

  Was she really going to ask that?

  Sure, it made sense that Aria might suspect something and have a rough idea of where she stood—especially since they couldn’t touch her…

  But that question? It could land her in hot water.

  Her fingers twitched faintly at her sides, her breath hitching for a moment.

  She opened her mouth, but no sound came out—just a slight quiver on her lips.

  “You don’t have to answer her!” the vampire yelled, lunging forward with her arms outstretched, like she could physically block the conversation.

  Her voice was a shrill, childish screech, her fangs gleaming as she spat the words.

  “This has nothing to do with her!”

  Aria ignored the vampire entirely. Her eyes stayed locked on the shadow-girl, her tone hardening just enough to sound like a command.

  “Answer.”

  The shadow-girl swallowed hard, visibly rattled. Her hands clasped together in front of her chest, fingers fidgeting nervously.

  Even though this could get her in trouble… if she could at least keep this from blowing up further…

  “Yes…” she murmured at last, barely audible. “I know Lady Esmeria.”

  Aria didn’t let up. Her gray eyes narrowed slightly, her voice holding that glacial calm as she pressed on.

  “If you answer me honestly, I’ll let this slide.”

  She paused, letting the words hang in the air, before hitting with a direct question:

  “Is Esmeria the shadow who serves the queen?”

  Here's the link.