But then, something shifted in the corner of his eye. Movement. His sharp gaze snapped to the window. A human. A woman, strolling through the shadowed woods as if she belonged there. Her figure was faintly illuminated by the moonlight, her steps strangely unhurried. What insolence. What audacity. A human, walking freely on his land, where death clung to the air like a veil. Did she not know whose domain she had entered? Did she not feel the weight of the dark energy that pulsed through every blade of grass?

Dracula materialized behind her, silent as death itself, his towering form casting a shadow that swallowed her in its wake. The air grew colder, heavier, as if the forest itself bowed to his presence. She turned slowly, unhurried, her expression calm, almost bored. His crimson eyes burned as they locked onto hers. She was… small. Frail, human. Yet she didn’t cower, didn’t tremble. Instead, her gaze traveled up, taking in his imposing figure, then down, pausing at his boots, before flicking back to his face.

And then—she raised an eyebrow.

Raised an eyebrow.

“May I know who you are, Sir?” she asked, her voice calm, steady, and utterly devoid of fear.

Dracula’s jaw tightened. His eyes twitched ever so slightly. Sir? Sir?! He, the King of Vampires, the harbinger of darkness, reduced to a mere sir? The gall. The utter, infuriating gall.

The faintest growl rumbled in his chest as he stepped closer, his shadow swallowing hers entirely. “You stand on my land, human,” he said, his voice low and venomous, each word dripping with restrained fury. “And yet you dare to question me?”

This woman was either the most foolish creature he’d ever encountered or… no, it had to be foolishness. “You tread where no human dares, yet you speak as though we are equals. Do you know who I am?”

For the first time in centuries, Dracula was speechless. Speechless… and utterly exasperated.