Sharon carefully tucked the pink sticky note between the pages of her favorite book. It would have been more practical to pin it up on her bedpost or desk, like many people did with photos of their loved ones, a source of comfort and inspiration during difficult times.

But Sharon, introverted as she was, couldn’t bring herself to do that. She preferred to suffer in silence, her feelings hidden from view, even from those she cared about most.

Her love was a quiet, powerful force.

That day, she spent her time as usual, curled up with a book, enjoying the comforting presence of Adele, even if it was just through a shared wall. To Sharon, being in the same apartment, even in separate rooms, was enough.

Suddenly, the sharp sound of the doorbell shattered the peaceful silence, sending a jolt of anxiety through Sharon. She clenched her fists, then released them, a wave of helplessness washing over her.

Was it… Hermione again?

 

How greedy could she be?

Was she going to… spend the night with Adele again? Do… *those things* with her?

Sharon’s imagination, as usual, was far more vivid and cruel than reality. It was a source of both pain and pleasure.

In truth, Hermione’s feelings for Adele were far deeper and more respectful than Sharon could comprehend. Perhaps she was waiting for the right moment, the perfect time, to consummate their relationship.

In other words, nothing had happened between Hermione and Adele the previous night.

But in Sharon’s mind, a helpless Adele had been subjected to Hermione’s desires all night long… And yet, despite her exhaustion, Adele had still managed to find the strength to make breakfast for her, a gesture of kindness that both warmed and tormented Sharon’s heart.

Would Adele repeat the same mistake tonight?

 

Sharon’s thoughts spiraled, her imagination painting a vivid, agonizing picture.

Adele, on the other hand, didn’t overthink things. She heard the doorbell, got up from her desk, and headed downstairs.

Maybe it was just a food delivery Hermione had ordered for her. She did have Adele’s address, after all.

Although Adele hadn’t finished the leftovers from last night, she was planning on having them for a late-night snack. But if Hermione had ordered more food, well, she wouldn’t complain.

However, when she opened the door, even the ever-optimistic Adele couldn’t help but freeze, her smile fading.

Her pink eyes widened in surprise, her lips parting as if to speak, but no sound came out.

The silence, however, was short-lived.

 

Adele might have been speechless, but the beautiful girl standing before her, dressed in a flowing gown like a princess gracing a humble dwelling, was anything but.

With a mischievous glint in her crimson eyes, she stepped forward and planted a delicate kiss on Adele’s cheek.

“Adele, I’m here to play~” she purred, her voice a seductive whisper.

“Pri- Princess…!” Adele stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

There was only one person Adele would address as “Princess”.

Dorothy.

Dorothy, however, didn’t appreciate the formality. She took the opportunity to nibble playfully on Adele’s earlobe, eliciting a soft gasp from the startled girl.

 

Adele was so much fun.

Unlike Sharon, who, despite her initial intrigue, had turned out to be utterly boring.

In the beginning, Dorothy had been fascinated by Sharon. She had found her weakness, her fragility, her victim complex, oddly appealing.

She had caught a glimpse of something dark and dangerous lurking beneath Sharon’s meek exterior, a fleeting moment of raw ambition, a desire to disrupt the established order, to burn the world down.

It was intriguing to see such grand aspirations in someone so seemingly insignificant.

But as Dorothy got to know Sharon better, she realized that the girl was, in fact, a complete waste of space. Her entire existence seemed to revolve around seeking validation from others, a pathetic joke.

And yet, despite her disdain, Dorothy had kept Sharon around. Perhaps she had a soft spot for lost causes after all.

 

Adele, however, was too preoccupied with her own anxiety to care about Dorothy’s hidden depths. Even if Dorothy was secretly a kind soul, she was still a lion, and Adele was a mere kitten. A swipe of her tiny claws wouldn’t even faze Dorothy. But a gentle pat from the lioness could crush her.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Dorothy asked, tilting her head.

“Of course, come in,” Adele said quickly, realizing that Dorothy didn’t appreciate the formal address.

Although their encounter on the rooftop had been brief, it had cleared the air between them, dispelling the misunderstandings and resentment that had been building up. They could now interact with each other normally.

Or at least, on the surface.

Adele was still terrified of her. She couldn’t help it.

She stepped aside, gesturing for Dorothy to enter.

 

Technically, Adele should have consulted her roommate before inviting a “friend” over. But even if it hadn’t been Sharon, Adele doubted anyone would dare to object to the presence of someone like Dorothy, or Hermione for that matter.

Dorothy smiled, accepting Adele’s hand and intertwining their fingers. Even Adele couldn’t resist the captivating aura that surrounded the princess, her mind momentarily blank. When she came to her senses, her hand was firmly clasped in Dorothy’s.

Adele’s cheeks burned. What was happening? Wasn’t Dorothy supposed to be the “crazy” one? Why was she so good at flirting?

Dorothy’s touch was possessive yet gentle, leaving Adele with the distinct feeling that there was no escape.

“What brings you here… Dorothy?” Adele asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Since Dorothy had made it clear she didn’t like being addressed formally, Adele opted for a more casual, intimate approach.

She closed the door behind Dorothy, ensuring their privacy. Not that the dorm manager would dare to question Dorothy, even if she had seen her.

 

Dorothy seemed pleased by Adele’s informality. She gazed into Adele’s eyes, her expression sincere.

“You weren’t contacting me, so I came to see you,” she said simply.

It was basically the equivalent of “I missed you”.

But Adele wasn’t exactly feeling touched.

More like… terrified.

“I’ve been busy… with schoolwork and exams,” she lied, her heart pounding.

*Busy* was the perfect excuse.

 

Adele could already envision a future where she would be enjoying a romantic evening with Hermione, or perhaps someone else, when Dorothy would suddenly call, demanding to know her whereabouts.

And Adele, trapped between a rock and a hard place, would lie through her teeth, whispering sweet nothings into the phone while trying to stifle her moans.

“I’m… mmm… I’m out jogging…”

Such a deceitful little minx. It was tempting to lock her up and punish her thoroughly.

Dorothy, however, wasn’t satisfied with Adele’s vague answer. She leaned closer, her crimson eyes boring into Adele’s.

Adele, caught off guard, instinctively stepped back. Her evasive maneuver only fueled Dorothy’s suspicions.

Had Adele been up to something behind her back?

 

The thought of sharing Adele with anyone else was unbearable. Dorothy’s possessive instincts roared to life.

“Don’t move,” she commanded, her voice low and husky.

Despite the lack of any overt use of her powers, Adele’s body, conditioned by years of being bullied, obeyed instinctively. She stood frozen, like a timid rabbit caught in the headlights.

Dorothy’s face was inches from Adele’s neck now. Her fangs lengthened, her crimson eyes darkening.

The sweet, intoxicating scent of Adele’s blood was almost too much to bear. Dorothy’s instincts screamed at her to sink her fangs into that delicate skin.

But she resisted.

She remembered what Adele had said on the rooftop.

 

She… hated being forced, hated being treated like an object. But she didn’t hate Dorothy. In fact, she wanted to be closer to her.

And Dorothy had hurt her.

*Don’t make the same mistake again, Dorothy.*

She took a deep breath, forcing her cravings down. As a Sequence One, she possessed a level of self-control far beyond that of ordinary vampires. Anything less would be unbecoming of her rank.

A vampire who acted solely on instinct, devoid of any restraint, was nothing more than a savage beast.

Dorothy contented herself with taking a deep sniff, her keen senses analyzing the scent clinging to Adele’s skin.

“Hermione’s scent,” she murmured, her voice cold. “The faint smell of the sea.”

 

“I didn’t used to mind her. But now… she’s an annoyance.”

Her voice, though devoid of any elemental magic, sent a chill down Adele’s spine.

It was no wonder people said to never mess with a Familiar-type vampire.

Their powers were subtle, insidious, and often unpredictable. Unlike Strength-type vampires, whose power was straightforward and physical, or Elemental and Ability-type vampires, whose powers could be countered once their nature was understood…

The word most often used to describe Familiar-type vampires was “eerie”.

Their powers were drawn from otherworldly entities, beings not of this world. And some of them… well, they became eerie themselves.

Prone to madness, to losing control, to succumbing to corruption. Some even sacrificed themselves to summon powerful creatures from other realms.

 

The twelve True Ancestors of the vampire race, beings who possessed near immortality, were not all still alive. Only seven were known to be active. No, six. Tang Linlang’s family, along with other elite vampire hunter families, had orchestrated an attack that had left one of the True Ancestors grievously wounded, still recovering from her injuries.

Incidentally, that True Ancestor’s descendant was the current president of Chromwell Academy’s Black Feather Society, a Sequence One who harbored a deep hatred for humans.

As for the remaining five True Ancestors, three were missing, one was in a deep slumber, and the last one… was confirmed dead.

Rumor had it that she had sacrificed herself to summon a powerful being from another realm. Whether it had caused any major disasters was unknown. Both human and vampire authorities had kept the incident under wraps.

The point was, Familiar-type vampires were terrifying. And Dorothy, the apex predator of the current generation, was one of them. Her potential was truly frightening.

In fact, Dorothy was under constant surveillance whenever she was at the academy. Hermione, however, wasn’t considered a threat significant enough to warrant such attention. That spoke volumes about Dorothy’s power.

Outside Adele’s apartment, a faint breeze rustled the leaves of a nearby tree. Seemingly empty air shimmered for a moment, and a transparent figure materialized.

 

A woman with short, black hair, dressed in a skintight black suit. A human with supernatural abilities.

She observed the scene inside, her gaze sharp and calculating, pinpointing Dorothy and Adele’s location.

“Reporting in,” she said into a hidden earpiece. “No unusual activity detected.”

“Affirmative. She’s meeting with… a vampire.”

The woman knew that Adele was a half-vampire, but like the vampires who refused to acknowledge her human heritage, most humans didn’t consider her one of their own.

“Meeting her little girlfriend, perhaps?” a playful voice crackled through the earpiece. “So the rumors about the vampires’ open attitude towards love and affection are true.”

“Keep observing,” a more serious voice commanded. “Report everything. Every detail.”

 

The woman in the black suit, however, was less than thrilled about her assignment.

“Even… their preferred positions?” she asked, her voice flat.

“…”

“…”

Silence met her question.

So… Dorothy and her little girlfriend were already at *that* stage?

A cough broke the silence.

 

“Nightingale,” the more serious voice said. “That’s enough for tonight. Let’s respect the princess’s privacy.”

If the vampires found out that humans were spying on their princess, monitoring her every move, even her intimate moments… well, it would be a diplomatic nightmare. Besides, it was simply undignified.

“Understood,” Nightingale replied.

And just like that, she vanished, melting back into the shadows. The wind was the only witness to her departure.

Meanwhile, inside Adele’s apartment, the situation had escalated quickly.

Adele had said something, something that had angered Dorothy.

And now, she was pinned to the floor, her hair a tangled mess, Dorothy looming over her.

 

Adele looked defeated, her resistance broken. But there was a spark of defiance in her tear-filled eyes, a refusal to submit completely.

Dorothy, however, was at her limit. Her eyes blazed crimson.

“Adele,” she hissed, her voice dangerously low. “Why…?”