Mr perfect vampire

The wind shifted that night.

Not in strength—but in scent.

Dorian froze mid-step, standing in the library of the cottage. Aria looked up from the map spread across the table.

"What is it?" she asked.

His lips parted. "Lilies. And ash."

Before he could explain, a shadow moved through the window—and then suddenly, she was there.

Lady Amaris.

Clad in blood-red velvet, her dark curls tumbled over one shoulder. Her eyes—once warm brown, now a deep wine—held both danger and regret.

"Hello, darling," she said to Dorian, her voice like silk dipped in venom. "Miss me?"

Aria tensed.

So this was her.

The ex.

❖

They sat in the study. Tension carved every breath.

Aria watched Amaris pour herself a glass of dark wine and sit with queen-like grace.

"I'm not here to fight," Amaris said, glancing at Dorian. "I'm here because of the child."

Aria leaned forward. "You know who she is?"

Amaris nodded. "She was hidden—created outside the laws of the Council. A secret line of blood… perfect blood. Yours," she looked at Dorian, "and someone else's."

Aria's heart stuttered. "Someone else's?"

Amaris smirked. "Relax, sweetheart. Dorian didn't sire a child with me, if that's what you're thinking."

Dorian stood. "Tell us what you know. All of it."

"Centuries ago," Amaris began, "the Council created a vault. Inside, they stored blood—royal bloodlines. Yours included, Dorian. And… a mortal line chosen for purity. That mortal line eventually gave birth to someone very special."

Aria's breath caught. "You mean…"

"Yes," Amaris said slowly, "the girl is not your daughter. But she carries your blood… and yours." Her gaze settled on Aria.

"She is the fusion of vampire perfection and human will."

"A weapon," Dorian whispered.

Amaris raised her glass. "Or a savior. Depends on who gets to her first."

❖

After Amaris left—vanishing in a swirl of midnight silk—Aria paced.

"She's lying," Aria muttered. "She always lies."

Dorian didn't respond.

"Dorian."

He looked at her.

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

Silence.

Then he said quietly, "She's not wrong."

Aria felt the floor tilt under her feet.

"You knew?"

"I suspected. I… I had my blood taken by the Council before I escaped. They told me it was for recordkeeping. But I think it was for something more."

Aria's voice trembled. "So you've known this child might exist all along. And you said nothing."

"I was protecting you."

"No," she snapped. "You were protecting yourself."

He stepped forward. "Aria—"

"No," she whispered. "You don't get to lie to me and then ask for trust."

She turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her.

Outside, the stars above the Scottish coast flickered like broken promises.

And far away, in the depths of a ruined citadel, the child knelt alone in her cage.

Eyes glowing faintly silver.

And in the shadows beyond the bars…

The Revenant Queen smiled.