Chapter 213: Raven’s Plan!

The mother and daughter talked to each-other for a couple minutes before Lilian finally left the office with a quiet click of the doors closing behind her, the sound echoing softly down the long crimson-lined corridor.

Her steps were steady as she walked, posture straight, chin lifted, the familiar confidence returning to her stride as servants bowed and guards snapped to attention. To anyone watching, she was simply the BloodHaven heiress returning to her duties, unbothered, unshaken.

But beneath that surface, her thoughts churned at the current situation, thinking of Magnus and Albedo, the lines of power that were beginning to blur faster than she liked.

She had thought she would remain single for a long time, but with everything going on with Albedo, she now needed to stamp her authority quickly.

All of this flashed through her mind as she thought, and she didn’t slow until she reached the inner stairwell, one hand brushing along the cold stone railing as she descended, the hum of blood-aspected mana vibrating faintly through her bones.

Training. Authority. Stamping her presence over the young nobles. Her mother wasn’t wrong. If anything, she’d been patient longer than most vampires would’ve tolerated.

Still… Lilian’s lips twitched faintly despite herself. Idiot. Teasing her in the middle of a crystal market while being tailed by assassins.

As her footsteps faded from the corridor, the office behind her remained still while her mother, Raven, stood where Lilian had left her, eyes lingering on the closed doors for several long seconds.

Only when she was certain her daughter was gone did she finally exhale, the sound slow and controlled, like steam released from a sealed chamber.

Her gaze drifted back toward the window, the Northern Capital stretching out beneath her like a living map of influence and ambition. Crimson spires. Noble estates.

Districts divided by bloodlines and old grudges. The Everglade territory lay nestled among them, subtle in its arrogance, quiet in the way only those who believed themselves untouchable could afford to be.

“So,” Raven murmured to the empty room, lifting her teacup again. “Albedo.”

The name rolled across her tongue with interest rather than affection. She was already interested in him and asked Raphaeline to let her talk to him once the exchange was done, but it seemed they’d be crossing paths sooner.

A man who killed when pressed but stopped when asked. A man who ignored titles yet understood consequence. A man who could draw Magnus Everglade’s attention without actively provoking him, and survive long enough to become a problem.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. Strength without restraint was common. Morals without power were useless. What Lilian had described was something rarer.

Balance.

Raven took another sip, then set the cup aside, the liquid within still steaming despite having been poured minutes ago. Blood-aspected mana coiled lazily around her fingers as she turned away from the window, walking slowly back toward her desk.

Magnus Everglade had made his first mistake by acting without permission. His second mistake was assuming BloodHaven would tolerate it. Her fingers traced a sigil carved into the edge of the desk, ancient and sharp, its lines pulsing faintly as it responded to her touch.

“If I crush him immediately,” Raven mused softly, “he learns nothing. And his family learns only fear.”

She wanted to send a big message throughout the Noble Vampire circles not to fuck with her and her family.

First, Magnus and his family would be warned, one way or another and by the end, if his family had any sense left, they would leash their heir before he forced Raven to do it herself.

Second… Albedo.

Raven’s lips curved faintly, not quite a smile. Testing him outright would be crude. A direct confrontation would tell her little beyond raw power, and power alone wasn’t what she needed to measure. No, what mattered was how he reacted when lines were drawn.

When temptation was offered. When pressure came from someone who could, if she wished, erase him from the board entirely.

Strength could be gauged. Morals had to be revealed.

“Lilian chose him,” Raven said quietly to herself. “That means I must be certain.”

She moved to a different shelf, selecting a thin black folder marked with a blood-sealed crest. Inside were reports, fragmentary, incomplete and deliberately vague.

Raven closed the folder, decision settling into place with the weight of inevitability as she new how she’d test him.

***

Later that day, Albedo was walking through the city, the environment thinning of citizens the farther he walked.

Streets gave way to packed dirt paths, noise softened into distant echoes, and the ever-present hum of mana that saturated the Northern Capital loosened its grip just enough to let him breathe.

By the time he reached the outer ridge overlooking the city walls, the sun had begun its slow descent, staining the sky in hues of amber and wine-red.

Albedo sat on a low outcropping of stone at the edge of a grassy rise, one leg bent, the other dangling lazily over the slope. In his hand was a simple glass bottle. nothing fancy, nothing enchanted, filled with a locally brewed spirit that burned just enough to be interesting.

He took a slow drink and let his shoulders relax. Eight presences still lingered at the edge of his senses.They hadn’t vanished. They never did.

They were like watch dogs on a leash whose owner hadn’t decided whether to let the leash go yet, all they did was follow and stare at him like a hawk, it become more annoying the later into the day it went.

Albedo smirked faintly, tilting the bottle and watching the liquid swirl. “You guys really should take breaks,” he muttered under his breath. “Union rules and all that.”

No response, of course. He doubted they even understood what union rules meant. He leaned back slightly, eyes half-lidded as he watched mana currents ripple faintly across the horizon like heat haze. His thoughts drifted to Gwen, wondering how she was doing back home.

So much had happened Albedo hadn’t found an opportunity to really relax and think about her.

His thoughts also shifted to Magnus all the while he rolled the bottle between his fingers, expression calm but eyes sharp. If Lilian hadn’t intervened, there would have been blood on the streets by now. Not because he’d lost control, but because he wouldn’t have bothered holding back.

He respected restraint when it mattered and he respected Lilian.

He took another sip, the spirit burned pleasantly, grounding him and then before he could react, the airflow around him changed.

It wasn’t sudden violence. No spike of hostile intent. No killing aura. No attack.

It was worse.The mana around him dimmed, as if the world itself had decided to lower its voice.

Albedo froze mid-motion.

His instincts screamed, not danger, not exactly, but significance. A pressure rolled outward from an unseen point, deep and vast, like standing too close to the heart of a storm that hadn’t yet decided to break.

Darkness bled into the edges of his vision.

“—Tch.”

He pushed to his feet, hand instinctively shifting toward where Havoc and Ruin would manifest, but before the thought could fully form

The ground vanished beneath him. No impact or transition, just absence.

Albedo felt weightless for a fraction of a second before gravity reasserted itself violently. He hit grass hard, air knocking from his lungs as he rolled once, boots tearing shallow grooves through soft earth.

He stopped on his back.

Blinking.

Breathing steady and still alive.

Alive.

Above him, the sky was no longer streaked with sunset. Instead, ancient trees arched overhead, their leaves dark crimson and black, mana veins glowing faintly along their bark like pulsing arteries. The air was thick with blood-aspected energy, warm, heavy, intimate.

A domain.

Albedo let out a slow breath and stared upward.

“Well,” he said dryly, pushing himself onto his elbows, “this is new.”

A shadow fell across his vision.

Not sudden. Not threatening.

Just… inevitable.

He lifted his gaze.

She stood a few steps away, boots resting lightly on the grass as if the ground itself was eager to support her. Tall. Statuesque. Her presence alone bent the air subtly around her, blood-aspected mana coiling close to her skin like a living mantle.

Long hair flowed freely down her back, catching faint light as if each strand carried its own quiet power. Her features were sharp, regal, uncannily similar to Lilian’s, but older, more refined, honed by centuries rather than youth.

Her eyes were deep red. Ancient, Amused and very interested. The lady looked down at him as one might regard an unexpected but promising discovery.

Albedo met her gaze without hesitation, blue eyes steady, curious rather than alarmed.

“…Huh,” he said after a beat. “You’ve got her eyes.”

The woman smiled with the quiet confidence of someone who had never needed to ask permission to stand anywhere.

“Albedo Neverwinter,” she said, her voice smooth and rich, carrying authority without raising its volume. “I am Raven BloodHaven.”

Albedo took that in, then relaxed back into the grass, folding his hands behind his head as if he hadn’t just been abducted into a vampire domain by one of the most dangerous women on the continent.

As he lay down, he felt a full bottle of more wine behind him, and picked it up, taking a sip before saying, “…Nice timing, “I was just running low.”

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