The Queen's Summon

Kian lay tangled in the sheets, his body still humming with the lingering intensity of the night before. Every nerve felt alive, thrumming from the shared heat and the silent promises that had passed between him and Viktor. The quiet of the room seemed amplified now, the only sound the faint rustle of fabric as Viktor shifted beside him. Kian's muscles ached, a satisfying reminder of their desperate rhythm, the way they had clung to each other as if the world outside had ceased to exist.

Viktor's fingers brushed Kian's shoulder, cool against the warmth of his skin. Normally, that touch would be reassuring, grounding, but this time it felt different—tense, as if there was something heavy in the silence that Kian hadn't noticed until now.

"Kian." Viktor's voice was a low murmur, almost a whisper, yet there was an unmistakable edge to it, something that immediately set Kian on alert. "We've been summoned."

Kian blinked, pulling himself out of the last remnants of sleep. "Summoned?" he repeated, forcing himself to sit up despite the soreness that protested the movement. The words sent a shiver of uncertainty through him, even as he tried to keep his expression steady. "By who?"

"To the Queen's court," Viktor said, stepping away from the bed, his face shifting into a cold, unreadable mask. Kian recognized that look, the practiced, detached expression Viktor wore when he was keeping something close, hiding the truth behind a wall of control.

"There's a queen?" Kian's voice held a mix of disbelief and curiosity, his mind trying to grasp the idea of a vampire hierarchy. How deep did the structure of this hidden world go? What sort of power did a queen hold over creatures like Viktor?

"Yes," Viktor replied flatly. "And she happens to be my sire."

The weight of that revelation settled between them, heavy and unyielding. Kian felt a chill run down his spine, his heart beating faster as the reality sank in. Viktor's queen… the one who had created him.

"What… what does she want?" Kian managed, his voice betraying the anxiety he was struggling to keep hidden. The idea of meeting this vampire queen, of stepping into her domain, filled him with a dread he couldn't shake.

Viktor's jaw clenched, his body a coiled mass of tension. "I suspect she wants to meet you," he said, though the lack of enthusiasm in his tone spoke volumes.

Kian's pulse quickened. The thought of facing Viktor's queen, the woman who had made him what he was, made his skin crawl. How could he stand in a room full of vampires, beings who could tear him apart without a second thought? But a darker realization settled in his mind: this wasn't just about him; it was about Viktor, about something far deeper than he could yet understand.

"When… when do we have to go?" Kian asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder would break whatever fragile sense of calm he'd managed to maintain.

Viktor's gaze fell to the floor, his silence heavy with the answer. "Now."

---

The drive to the Queen's court was steeped in silence, the air thick with unspoken questions and fears. Kian glanced at Viktor from the passenger seat, his mind racing as he tried to comprehend what awaited them. How had things spiraled this far? What could the queen possibly want with him?

But then, Viktor's hand found his, their fingers intertwining in a silent promise. The gesture was small, a quiet reminder of something unbreakable between them. For a moment, Kian felt grounded, the warmth of Viktor's hand anchoring him.

"Don't be afraid," Viktor whispered, his eyes still focused on the road, yet his words carrying a gentle reassurance. His thumb brushed over Kian's hand, a small, comforting gesture that belied the tension in his own body. "I'll be with you. Always."

Kian nodded, clutching onto Viktor's words, drawing whatever strength he could from the assurance. But despite the comfort, a gnawing dread had settled deep within him, stubbornly refusing to fade.

---

When they arrived, the vampire guards at the grand entrance barely acknowledged Kian before ushering them inside, their eyes cold and expressionless. As they passed through the looming doors, Kian's breath caught in his throat.

The vampire queen's court stretched out before them, a cavernous room that exuded dark, lavish opulence. Rich crimson velvet draped along the walls, the floor a polished black that gleamed under the chandelier's soft, eerie glow. Vampires lounged in the shadows, their eyes gleaming with undisguised interest as they watched Viktor and Kian make their approach.

The atmosphere was suffused with an unsettling beauty, the gothic architecture melding seamlessly with the aura of ancient power that seemed to cling to the very walls. Kian felt impossibly small, human, and vulnerable in this sea of vampires. The realization clawed at him, he didn't belong here. He was out of his depth, but he steeled himself, determined not to show weakness.

Viktor had remained silent throughout the journey, his face locked in that impassive mask, yet Kian could feel the tension radiating off him in waves. This wasn't just a meeting. It was a reckoning. And at the center of it all, he could sense Queen Isolde's presence, Viktor's sire.

Isolde sat atop her throne, a vision in deep crimson silk, her piercing gaze fixed on Viktor the instant he entered the room. She was ageless, her beauty sharp and deadly, as if she were carved from the very essence of power itself.

As Viktor and Kian approached the throne, her lips curled into a cold, knowing smile, her eyes shifting to land on Kian. The weight of her gaze made his skin crawl, but he refused to look away.

"Kian," Viktor whispered, his voice a low, urgent warning. "Stay close to me."

Kian nodded, his heart hammering as he took in Viktor's steady presence beside him. Despite the terror churning within him, Viktor's presence offered a lifeline, something solid amidst the looming danger.

With a fluid grace that was almost inhuman, Isolde rose from her throne, her gaze flicking over Kian as if he were a mere curiosity, a fragile thing. She was every inch the queen, her movements dripping with an unsettling elegance. Regal, untouchable, and terrifying.

"My dear Viktor," Isolde purred, her voice a silken thread laced with menace. "You've been keeping secrets from me."

Viktor stepped forward, his expression respectful but unyielding. "I have nothing to hide, my Queen."

"Is that so?" Her gaze lingered on Kian, her smile widening into something that sent a shiver down his spine. "And what do we have here? A human, bound to you by blood. Fragile, isn't he?"

The words hit Kian like a blow, and he clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. He wasn't fragile. He wasn't some weak human who needed protecting, but here, under her scrutiny, he had never felt more vulnerable.

Yet, even as her gaze bore into him, stripping him of any pretense, Kian forced himself to stand tall. He wouldn't let her intimidate him, wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing his fear. His heart pounded furiously, but he met her gaze, defiant even in the face of his own terror.

Isolde's smile deepened, her eyes gleaming with a dark amusement as she seemed to take measure of him, weighing him, testing his resolve.