Chapter 32: You called me, Lady Elizabeth?

The day dawned silently over Wykes Manor. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the thick curtains of Damon’s chambers, casting golden streaks across the polished stone floor. The birdsong in the gardens was still timid, as if even they hesitated to invade the morning serenity.

Damon opened his eyes even before Aria’s call. His body moved slowly, heavy but not painful. He had slept, yes, but it hadn’t been deep. It was a fitful rest, filled with confused dreams: shards of ice shattering, eyes as blue as glaciers, smoke dancing over frozen pilings, and… his own reflection distorted in shards of crystal.

He turned over in bed, running a hand over his face.

“Damn…” he murmured.

The hollow feeling in his stomach hit him immediately. It wasn’t just hunger. It wasn’t something warm bread or roast beef could solve. His incubus body demanded more. It demanded essence. Life, vital energy, the breath of the soul that hid deep within people.

Damon clutched his abdomen, as if the gesture could silence his hunger.

“Not now… I can handle it.”

The thought was firm, but the weakness in his legs wouldn’t let him forget. Every time he tried to ignore this nature, it felt like his soul gnawed at him, like a hole growing wider and wider.

Even so, he stood. He dressed simply, adjusting his light tunic and running his fingers through his disheveled hair. He glanced at the spear leaning in the corner of the room. The weapon seemed to mock him, reminding him of what Esther had said the night before.

“You’re dead weight.”

“I’ll teach you how to use that useless spear.”

Damon’s chest tightened. Part of him wanted to grab the spear right now, run to Esther, and prove he could be more than that. Another part… wanted to just throw the gun out the window and pretend he’d never heard of cultivation or ice generals.

He huffed, defeated by himself, and walked to the door. Maybe some fresh air would help.

When he turned the knob and opened it, he found an unexpected sight.

Aria was standing directly in front of it, her hand raised in a knocking position. Her eyes, curiously, were cast to the side, as if distracted by something.

And then it happened.

POC, POC, POC!

The delicate knuckles of her hand slammed straight into his chest, three times in a row.

Damon blinked in surprise.

“Hello…?”

Aria continued knocking, frowning, until she muttered to herself,

“Wow… the wood is really soft. Is this door already broken?”

Only then did she turn her face. And her eyes met his.

The shock was instantaneous.

Aria froze, her hand still resting against Damon’s chest. Her lips parted, and color immediately rose to her cheeks.

“I… I…” she stammered, suddenly stepping back, her hand trembling slightly in the air. “I thought… the door…”

Damon arched his eyebrow, stifling a laugh.

“So, I’m as smooth as wood? That’s a new compliment.”

“Don’t joke!” she retorted, her voice a little louder than usual, trying to hide her embarrassment.

She straightened her posture, taking a deep breath, trying to regain her usual impeccable composure.

“I came to get you. Miss Elizabeth wants to see you.”

Damon’s laughter died immediately.

“Elizabeth? At this time?”

Aria nodded, avoiding looking directly at him, still slightly flushed.

“Yes. She asked that you be shown to the meeting room as soon as you woke up.”

Damon scratched the back of his neck, a chill running down his spine. Elizabeth Wykes rarely requested his presence in person. When she did, it was never for something small.

He sighed.

“Okay… let me guess: more trouble.”

Aria crossed her arms, but the corner of her lips seemed almost to curve into a smile.

“Maybe. But there’s no point in running away.”

Damon raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay. I’ll go.” He glanced down the hallway, then back at her. “Will you take me?”

“Of course.”

They began walking together through the mansion’s wide corridors. The marble floor reflected the glow of the first light of day streaming through the tall windows. Servants hurried past, carrying trays, cloths, and scrolls, always bowing when they saw Aria.

Damon walked in silence, but hunger throbbed with every step. His eyes, despite himself, scanned the people around him, sensing tiny fragments of essence emanating from them like invisible sparks. The scent, the heat, the breath of life. It was tempting. Too much.

He bit his lip, looking away, trying to focus on something else.

Aria noticed.

“You look strange.”

“Strange how?” he answered too quickly, almost defensively.

She tilted her head, studying him.

“Like someone who… isn’t whole. They’re holding something.”

Damon looked away, fixing them on the spear still on his back.

“Maybe it’s just fatigue.”

Aria didn’t press the point. But her gaze remained fixed on him for a few seconds, as if she could see beyond what he was saying.

Finally, they reached the large double doors that led to Elizabeth’s conference room. Two armed guards stood motionless, but stepped aside as soon as they saw Aria.

She stopped in front of Damon.

“Go. She doesn’t like to wait.”

He took a deep breath, trying to control the tightness in his stomach and the pressure of hunger that threatened to overflow.

“Okay. Thanks, Aria.”

He started forward, but hesitated, turning slightly toward her.

“Oh, and… about the soft door…” He gave a smirk. “Don’t worry. I promise not to crack so easily.”

Aria blushed again, crossing her arms to hide her embarrassment.

“Go!”

Damon chuckled softly and, with a final sigh, entered Elizabeth’s office.

The silence inside the conference room was heavy, but not uncomfortable. Unlike the other rooms in the mansion, this one was dominated by tall bookshelves crammed with rare books and scrolls. In the center, a dark wooden table gleamed in the light of an enchanted chandelier.

Elizabeth sat in her usual chair, elegant as ever. Her long brown hair was tied back in a delicate arrangement, and her crimson silk gown radiated authority. Even without moving, her presence filled the entire space.

Damon entered slowly, his footsteps echoing discreetly. He approached, bowing his head in respect.

“You called me, Lady Elizabeth?”

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