A Crimson Lecture

The atmosphere in the mansion was tense, the silence only broken by the faint creak of floorboards as Kikidori paced back and forth in the grand living room. He looked toward the doorway, knowing full well that Ere'ana would be making her entrance any second.

"Lucky break," Kikidori muttered to himself, running a hand through his dark hair. "Could've gone a whole lot worse."

He'd just let out a sigh of relief when Ere'ana appeared at the top of the grand staircase. Her presence was commanding, her dark silhouette framed by the moonlight streaming in through the arched window behind her. She descended the stairs slowly, her heels clicking against the polished wood, her face a mask of cool detachment.

Kikidori froze, his mouth opening slightly as if to speak, but one look at her eyes—a mix of quiet fury and deadly calm—made him shut it again. He braced himself. This wasn't going to be pleasant.

Ere'ana stopped in front of him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Sit," she commanded, her tone sharp and unyielding.

Kikidori hesitated for half a second before dropping into one of the leather armchairs. "Look, before you start—"

"Before I start?" Ere'ana interrupted, her voice cutting through his like a blade. She stepped closer, looming over him like a predator sizing up its prey. "You don't get to dictate how this conversation goes, Kikidori. Not after your little stunt last night."

Kikidori groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "It wasn't a stunt, Ere'ana. It was an accident."

"An accident?" Ere'ana's tone was laced with sarcasm as she arched a brow. "You're centuries old, Kikidori. You've survived wars, plagues, and countless hunts without a scratch, and you're telling me you couldn't manage to keep one tiny piece of protection intact?"

Kikidori opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it when Ere'ana leaned in closer, her gaze sharp enough to pierce through his very soul.

"Do you have any idea what could've happened?" she continued, her voice low and dangerous. "Do you even comprehend the kind of responsibility we could've been facing? A vampire child isn't just a rarity, Kikidori—it's a death sentence. For them and for us. Do you think the elders would've let us live if they'd found out?"

Kikidori shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his usual bravado completely stripped away. "I didn't think about it like that," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"That's exactly the problem," Ere'ana snapped, straightening up and pacing the room. "You never think. You act on impulse, and it's going to get us both killed one day."

Kikidori watched her, his jaw tightening as guilt settled over him. He wanted to argue, to defend himself, but he knew she was right. Ere'ana always was.

"I get it," he said finally, his tone subdued. "I screwed up. I'll be more careful next time."

Ere'ana stopped in her tracks, turning to face him with a piercing glare. "There shouldn't *be* a next time, Kikidori. We've lived this long because we're careful, because we don't take unnecessary risks. This—" she gestured between them, "—was reckless and selfish, and we can't afford that kind of carelessness."

Kikidori lowered his head, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. "You're right," he said quietly.

Ere'ana's expression softened slightly, though her tone remained firm. "This isn't just about us, Kikidori. If we make a mistake, it's not just our lives on the line—it's every vampire in this region. You know how fragile our secrecy is. One slip, and everything falls apart."

"I know," Kikidori said, looking up at her with genuine remorse in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Ere'ana. I'll do better."

She studied him for a long moment, her sharp gaze searching his face for any sign of insincerity. Finally, she nodded, her stance relaxing slightly. "Good. Because if you don't, I'll make sure you regret it."

Kikidori chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. "You really know how to keep a guy in line, don't you?"

Ere'ana smirked faintly, her icy demeanor thawing just enough to reveal the slightest hint of affection. "Someone has to. You'd be dead a hundred times over if it weren't for me."

"Fair point," Kikidori admitted, standing up and stretching. "So, are we good now, or are you planning to lecture me for another hour?"

Ere'ana rolled her eyes, turning toward the door. "We're good. For now."

Kikidori watched her leave, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Despite her harsh words, he knew she cared. Ere'ana wasn't the type to show her feelings openly, but her actions spoke louder than words ever could.

As the door closed behind her, Kikidori sank back into the chair with a sigh. "Note to self," he muttered. "Never piss off Ere'ana again."

The End of Chapter Eight