I remember the weight of the sword, the silence after the last scream. I was Vlad, Prince of Wallachia, once called the Impaler, once the Sultan’s deadliest weapon. I laid down that life for peace, for Mirena, for Ingeras. But peace is fragile.

I found the helmet in the stream—Ottoman steel, fresh blood on the rim. I followed the water to Broken Tooth Mountain, and death waited in the dark. Something not human tore through my men. I barely escaped.

Brother Lucian told me what it was: a vampire, an ancient thing born from Rome’s fall. I didn’t believe him—until the Sultan’s envoy arrived, demanding boys for his army. My son among them.

I returned to the cave. The creature offered me its blood. Power for three days. If I resisted human blood, I’d return to man. If I gave in, I’d become one of them.

I drank.

Now, I move faster than sight, strong enough to crush stone. I saved the castle tonight, slaughtered the infiltrators like beasts. But the hunger… it pulses in my veins. I sent the people to Cozia Monastery. I thought they’d be safe.

They’re not.

The Ottoman army marches there now. I can feel it—the pull of my son’s fear. I must go. But if I lose control… if I feed… what will I become?