My fingers continued their search through the crystalline water. The mark I bore was not one his devices could perceive.

“I require no protection from you,” I said, my voice quiet but clear.

Tom stared, caught between horror and a macabre curiosity. “Do you understand what unclaimed means here? You are not even a servant. You are… available. Any one of these nobles could take you, and no House would raise a hand in protest.”

Mia glided forward, silk whispering warnings. “See reason, Rowling—you’re human. Your bloodline is common, and your life is a heartbeat in our eternity. Tom offering his mark now is an act of divine mercy. Drop this suicidal pride before it kills you."

The surrounding vampires watched, their amusement a palpable scent in the air.

“A mortal, daring to scorn a Lord…”

“A human who fantasizes that she can win the love of a lord?”

“Look at her pitiful appearance. Over the past few years, she may have been groveling like a stray dog, searching for leftovers.”

“Humans are for sustenance or sport. Nothing more.”

Then—my fingertips met a familiar, smooth contour. The tourmaline.

I lifted it from the water, its inner light soft and steady in my palm. A quiet peace settled over me.

At the same time, the tourmaline glowing with a blinding, rhythmic light that pulses in sync with my heartbeat.

The whispers around became louder, with a hint of greed in their tone.

“Why is the radiance of this tourmaline so similar to that legendary artifact?”

“But isn't that artifact already lost? How could it be in the hands of a human.”

“It must have been stolen by her from the lord! It's normal for some immortal artifacts to be kept in the ancient bloodline.”

“You're right, this must have been stolen.”

Before I could move, an icy hand shackled my wrist, wrenching me upright to face the crowded hall.

“Rowling,” Tom’s voice boomed, resonant with condemnation. “You threw away my shelter for pride. Now you stand alone, claimed by no one, and still hold an artifact that you stole from somewhere unknown. This is the fate you chose!”

“Let me go, Tom.”

“Go? To what death?” His grip turned crushing. “I am offering you a final kindness. Kneel. Swear fealty. And present the artifact with both hands. I may yet grant you a place within my walls—as a servant. It is more than you deserve.”

I studied his face—the arrogance, the hollow certainty. The man I knew was gone. “I told you. I am not unprotected and the artifact is not stolen by me, it is given to my son by someone else.”

“By whom?!” he thundered. The full, crushing weight of his lineage’s power erupted, slamming into the room. Guards collapsed. Mia cried out, stumbling back.

“Who else could possibly want you? A discarded, mortal woman! Who can give an artifact to a non -pure- blood child? Who else would shield you from this world but me?”

The pressure broke against me, dissolving into nothing. From the depths of my being, an older, deeper power stirred—not a shield, but a presence, vast and silent and waiting.

“Because,” I said, meeting his furious, bewildered gaze, “my bond is already spoken for. I have a blood-bond mate. He is also the one who provides artifacts.”

Tom’s hand fell away as if scalded. Silence, absolute and deep, swallowed the grand lobby, while the older, more powerful vampires in the room start to look paler because they thought of a rare possibility.

“You are human,” he breathed, the words tinged with a dawning, terrifying awe. “A human cannot be a true mate. It is forbidden by ancient law… Who would dare?”

The murmurs in the hall grew louder, whispers spreading through the air like smoke.

“A human actually has a blood-bound partner?”

“Absurd.”

“She’s lying. Humans lie when they’re desperate.”

“Trying to provoke Lord Tom. What a desperate gamble.”

Tom’s gaze was fixed on me, cold and disbelieving.

“Rowling,” he said slowly, as if savoring a bitter name. “Do you really think fabricating a fantasy will sway me?”

His gaze swept over me with undisguised contempt.

“You are human, an ordinary person, you have no family crest, no bloodline mark. No vampire of any standing would acknowledge you.” A cruel smile played on his lips. “Or are you saying you’ve latched onto some lowly blood slave and dare to call that a blood bond?”

I didn’t answer.

My fingers tightened around the tourmaline. My son was waiting for me. The seal was already beginning to waver. Every second wasted here was a risk I couldn’t afford.

My silence amused them.

Lady Mia—an older noblewoman in a crimson velvet gown, her fangs visible when she smiled—tilted her head thoughtfully.

“If she’s so eager for recognition,” Mia said softly, “why not let her continue… to be of some use?”

She turned elegantly to the assembled nobles.

“Tonight’s summit brings together the lords and Elders from half of the vampire families. The finest wines and delicacies have been prepared. A human can certainly handle such trivial tasks.”

Her gaze returned to me, sharp and glittering.

“Serve us, Rowling. Perhaps you’ll earn a favorable glance. Or better yet—seduce a lord who finds you novel and interesting.”

A burst of laughter erupted.

“How generous.”

“At least she won’t starve.”

“A fitting role for a discarded human.”

I laughed—short, sharp, and full of anger. "Let me go."

My voice cut through the mockery, but this only made Mia's expression even more grim.

"How ungrateful," she said coldly. "I gave you dignity, and you trampled on it."

Tom's patience finally ran out.

"What do you want?" he demanded. "Money? Power? Or is this your last attempt to get back to me?" His voice lowered, laced with venom.

"My consort must be of pure blood. You can never stand by my side. Accept that fact."

Footsteps echoed clearly on the polished marble floor.

Guards in uniform, bearing the emblem of the High Council of Vampires, immediately approached.

"It's her," a young guard pointed at me, "She defiled the sacred spring and refuses to leave."

The captain's face turned stern.

"There is a distinguished guest at the Blood Covenant today," he announced, "His Majesty the Sovereign of the Midnight Court, along with his consort and heir, are in attendance. Their arrival marks the first time the Court has appeared outside the Inner Domain."

A ripple of unease spread through the hall.

"No one is allowed to cause a disturbance," the captain continued coldly. His gaze was fixed on me. "Especially a human. Your very existence is almost blasphemous."

Two guards stepped forward and grabbed my arms.

Just then—

"Wait."

Tom's voice rang out.

The guards hesitated.

Tom was staring at the tourmaline in my hand.

Not with contempt.

But with an almost disgusted look.

His breathing was ragged, his fingers trembling slightly at his side.

"Rowling," he said hoarsely, his gaze never leaving the gem, "Do you really think I would covet a trinket taken from the weak?"

I finally looked at him.

"You're mistaken," I said calmly, "This is something you can neither give nor take away."

The tourmaline pulsed, slow and deep, like a heartbeat that wasn't my own.

And far beyond the hall, an ancient power was awakening.

Tom's tense and uneasy expression stirred a long-buried memory within me.

Six years ago.

Darkness enveloped his ancient castle, and on that very night, he officially took over the family, only to be openly challenged by several elders who believed his bloodline was unstable and his power insufficient.

When I found him, he was sitting alone under the colonnade, blood seeping from his torn gloves, gazing at a dull, lifeless stone in his hand.

"What is that?" I asked softly.

"An amulet," he chuckled hollowly. "They say it can calm restless blood and stabilize the soul." His fingers tightened around the stone. "I've been holding it for hours. But I still feel... powerless."

I knelt beside him and began to clean his wounds.

"Strength doesn't come overnight," I said softly. "You've already endured pressure that most people couldn't bear."

He looked at me—no longer as a vampire lord, but as a man stripped of all pretense.

"Rowling," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "If one day I become strong enough... will you still stay by my side?"

I didn't hesitate.

"I will. Whether you are strong or weak, I will stay."

That night, he held my hand tightly, as if I were the amulet that kept him standing.

Now—

"I no longer need the tokens of the weak."

Those words echoed cruelly in my ears.

"Rowling?"

Lady Mia's voice interrupted my thoughts, sharp and tinged with annoyance.

"What are you looking at?" she demanded. "Hand over the stone."

I blinked, and the memory faded.

Everyone's gaze was fixed on the object in my hand.

"Hand it over?" I asked calmly. "Why?"

The captain of the Council Guard stepped forward, his tone stern.

"That stone is no mere trinket. It contains immense power—a sacred relic connected to ancient blood rituals. Humans have no right to possess it." His eyes narrowed. "Where did you steal it from?"

"I didn't steal it," I said calmly. "It was given to me by a friend of my son's father."

A burst of laughter erupted in the hall.

“Ridiculous,” Mia chuckled softly. “Rowling, do you really want to humiliate yourself? How could a blood slave possibly possess something like this?”

The guards murmured in agreement.

“She must have stolen it. This is a sacred artifact.”

The captain’s face turned serious.

“According to vampire law, you have committed a crime. You will be condemned to be the lowest of blood slaves for eternity.”

“I told you—it wasn’t stolen.” My patience was wearing thin.

“Then prove it to me,” Tom finally spoke, his voice cold. “Otherwise, as a lord recognized by the High Council, I will authorize your arrest.”

Before I could answer—

Ding.

The elevator doors slid open.

Tiny footsteps echoed on the smooth marble floor.

A small figure rushed into the hall, his curly hair disheveled, his eyes filled with tears.

“Mommy!”

My heart broke.

“Mommy! Did you find it? Daddy said you would find it!”

“Astra—” I knelt down, opening my arms. “I found it. It’s here.”

The hall fell silent.

The child looked no older than three.

However, the moment he crossed the threshold, the air changed.

An aura spread outwards—noble, ancient, and breathtakingly pure.

Several nobles stumbled backward.

The captain’s face was pale. “This aura… this bloodline…”

Before I could stop her, Mia lunged forward, snatching Astra from my arms.

“This is impossible!” she hissed, holding him tightly. “This child possesses a lord’s bloodline! How could a human woman give birth to such a child?”

Astra screamed and struggled. “Mommy! I want Mommy!”

Her grip tightened.

“This child was stolen,” Mia announced loudly. “Rowling not only stole a sacred artifact—she also kidnapped the heir of a great family!”

The hall erupted in chaos. “An heir?”

“No wonder she has a sacred artifact!”

“Humans are vermin—this proves it.”

The captain shouted, “Subdue her!”

Several hands grabbed me from behind, locking my arms. I struggled, rage burning in my heart.

“Let him go!” I shouted. “He’s my son!”

“Your son?” Mia sneered, “Can humans give birth to children with the bloodline of a lord? Do you think we’re fools?”

Astra cried in her arms. “Bad woman! I want my mommy!”

Something inside me shattered.

Tom slowly approached, looking down at me with cold disgust.

“I suspected your greed,” he whispered, “but kidnapping? Falsifying lineage?” His eyes turned icy. “You disgust me.”

He turned away.

“Take her to the tribunal. As for the child—send inquiries to all the great families. Someone must have lost their heir.”

“No!” I struggled violently. “You can’t take him!”

Just then—

Ding.

The elevator doors opened again.

Silence descended like a blade.

A man stepped out.

Tall, impeccably dressed in a black suit. His mere presence plunged the entire room into silence.

Power—not aggressive, not ostentatious—but absolute.

Every vampire present instinctively felt it.

A monarch.

Everyone instinctively lowered their heads.

“Your Majesty,” someone whispered.

Silver eyes swept across the hall—over the guards, the nobles, Tom, Mia—

Finally stopping on me.

The moment our eyes met, it felt like fire ignited beneath my skin.

The mark on my neck—the long-dormant mark—burned intensely.

A cold, dazzling light burst forth.