The dim glow of candlelight flickered against the polished mahogany walls of Verona's private chambers as she stood before a towering portrait of herself, eternally poised, eternally untouchable. A centuries-old vampire with the commanding presence of a queen and the ruthless precision of a conqueror, she had long since grown weary. The weight of eternity pressed upon her shoulders more heavily now than ever before, not because immortality bored her, but because those foolish enough to challenge it had grown bold.

Verona Volkov, an ageless and powerful vampire, had existed for a millennium, her presence marked by her striking appearance. With ash-white, garnet red eyes that betrayed her supernatural nature, and sharp features, she commands attention and respect with her every move.

A manicured finger traced along the edge of her desk where scattered dossiers lay in disarray. Each one a potential heir, each one found lacking. Some were too reckless; others too soft in their strategies. Not one possessed both fangs and foresight sharp enough to match hers. And that was no longer simply an inconvenience, it was a fatal oversight.

Vampire hunters had multiplied like rats in recent decades, their weapons laced with silver and arrogance alike. They struck under moonlight and daylight both, convinced they could carve legends from her demise. She scoffed at such arrogance even as she acknowledged its danger: every close call chipped away at time she did not have patience to spare. An heir wasn’t just tradition anymore; it was necessity wrapped in survival instinct.

But who? Who would be cunning enough to navigate this new world yet still bend knee when required? Who could withstand fire while carrying forward her legacy?

Her lips curled into something between amusement and menace as she turned toward the balcony doors leading out into nightfall’s embrace.

Perhaps… Perhaps fate needed another push tonight.

As Verona stood on the balcony, her eyes were drawn to an unusually dark spot in the nearby cemetery. It was a mere shadow amongst the tombstones, barely distinguishable... but to her eyes, it was as glaring as a beacon.

The shadows had no business lingering there, not on her lands.

A slow, cold smile formed on her lips. Perhaps this was not chance, but opportunity come calling.

In the blink of an eye, Verona dissolved into the night, her form dissipating like smoke caught in a sharp wind. One moment she stood poised on the balcony, and the next, she was nothing but mist curling through the cold air.

She materialized soundlessly at the edge of the cemetery, her presence as silent as death itself. The damp earth beneath her heels barely registered a disturbance and not even a blade of grass bent underfoot. Her scarlet eyes burned with predatory focus as they scanned ahead...

There- Movement. A flicker between aged tombstones, something alive, something bold enough to trespass where it did not belong.

Her voice cut through the stillness like steel:
"Who dares walk among graves uninvited?"

The words were soft yet carried with them centuries' worth of authority, the kind that made lesser creatures freeze in instinctive terror before they could even think to flee. She did not rush forward; instead, she waited for whatever fool had strayed too close to reveal themselves willingly... or by force.