The Crimson Court

A road to the Crimson Court was paved with whispers and blood.

Elizabeth and Elias traveled under the cover of night, skirting villages where vampire loyalists prowled and avoiding roads where travelers disappeared without a trace. The further they ventured into enemy territory, the more the world itself seemed to shift—trees gnarled into unnatural shapes, the wind carried distant screams, and the sky, once a deep navy, darkened to a shade that felt almost… alive.

No human dared to cross into the domain of the Crimson Court and return.

As they reached the outskirts of the Court's fortress, Elizabeth's breath caught. The castle loomed against the night sky, its towers jagged like the teeth of a beast. It was built from black stone, pulsing faintly with veins of crimson magic, as though the walls themselves were drinking in the blood of those who walked within.

"Tell me we have a plan," Elizabeth whispered, her fingers curled tightly around The Bloodbound Veil.

Elias exhaled slowly, keeping to the shadows. "We need to find a way inside without being seen. The Crimson Court doesn't just welcome guests."

Elizabeth's stomach twisted as she eyed the monstrous gate, lined with silver spikes. Guards clad in dark armor patrolled the entrance, their eyes gleaming unnaturally in the dim torchlight.

"We can't just sneak past them," she muttered. "They'll sense us."

Elias hesitated before pulling something from his satchel—a pair of delicate crystal vials filled with a swirling, smoky liquid.

Elizabeth eyed them warily. "What are those?"

"Shadow elixir," Elias said. "It'll mask our scent and presence for a short time—just enough to get inside."

Elizabeth took the vial he offered, staring at the dark substance. "And we just… drink it?"

Elias nodded. "It's not pleasant, but it works."

With a deep breath, Elizabeth uncorked the vial and swallowed the elixir. It burned like ice down her throat, sending a shiver through her veins. Instantly, the air around her shifted—her body blurred, becoming translucent, as though she were made of mist.

Elias took his own dose, and together, they moved toward the gates, slipping past the guards unnoticed.

The Court was alive with movement—vampires of all ranks and ages glided through the grand halls, clad in velvets and silks darker than the night itself. Their voices were hushed, their laughter like the sound of glass breaking.

Elizabeth's skin crawled as she followed Elias deeper into the fortress. The Bloodbound Veil vibrated faintly beneath her touch, as if warning her of the power that surrounded them.

"The fragment is in the throne room," Elias whispered. "But getting close to it won't be easy."

Elizabeth nodded, her pulse quickening. "Then let's move fast."

They slipped through a side passage, avoiding the main halls where nobles gathered, until they reached an ornate set of doors carved with scenes of conquest—humans kneeling before fanged rulers, rivers of blood flowing beneath their feet.

Elias placed a hand on the wood. "This is it."

Elizabeth exhaled. "Then let's finish this."

With a careful push, they entered.

The throne room was a place of nightmares.

Tall pillars of black marble lined the hall, their surfaces veined with red, pulsing like a heartbeat. A grand chandelier of bone and glass hung above, casting eerie patterns across the floor. And at the center of it all sat the throne—an abomination of twisted iron and silver, its seat occupied by the figure Elizabeth had feared the most.

The Lord of the Crimson Court.

He was draped in dark robes, his pale face carved from stone, with eyes like liquid silver. He radiated power—cold and ancient, suffocating in its intensity.

And resting on a pedestal beside him was the final fragment of the Veil.

Elizabeth's breath caught.

"We need to be quick," Elias murmured, but before they could take another step, the Lord of the Crimson Court spoke.

"I was wondering when you'd come, little Ravenscroft."

Elizabeth froze. His voice was smooth as silk, yet it carried the weight of centuries. Slowly, the vampire lord rose from his throne, his piercing gaze locking onto her.

"You've been gathering the fragments," he continued, stepping forward with the grace of a predator. "But tell me… do you even know why?"

Elizabeth clenched her fists. "To restore the Veil. To stop your kind from tearing it apart."

The vampire lord chuckled, slow and deliberate. "Is that what you believe?" He tilted his head, studying her as one might study an insect beneath glass. "You have been fed half-truths, child. The Veil was never meant to be restored."

Elias tensed beside her. "You're lying."

The vampire smirked. "Am I? The Veil was not built to protect humans from monsters. It was built to cage us—to bind our power, to shackle creatures older than your fragile little kingdom." His eyes darkened. "And your family? The Ravenscrofts? They were not guardians. They were jailers."

Elizabeth's stomach twisted. "No. That's not true."

The Lord of the Crimson Court stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "Isn't it? Think, child. Why do you feel the fragments? Why does the book call to you? It is not because you are meant to bind the Veil." He leaned in, voice a whisper of temptation.

"It is because you are meant to break it."

Elizabeth's mind reeled. The weight of the book, the warmth of the fragments in her hands, the power surging beneath her skin—was it all leading her to restore the Veil? Or was it leading her to shatter it forever?

Elias grabbed her wrist. "He's trying to deceive you."

The vampire lord smiled. "Am I? Or am I offering you the truth no one else dared to tell?"

Elizabeth's pulse pounded.

Was she truly the Veil's last guardian?

Or was she its destroyer?