About the Book
After a thousand years in Hell, Dracula returns to a city that no longer belongs to him. His former servant, Lucius, has seized power, ruling with an iron grip and wielding an unnatural strength that Dracula cannot match. To reclaim his throne, Dracula must do the unthinkable—ally with his greatest enemy.
Enter Celeste, the White Alpha Queen, a ruler as feared as she is powerful. Bound by a fragile truce, they form a dangerous pact to overthrow Lucius, but hidden agendas and dark secrets threaten to tear their alliance apart. With enemies closing in and an ancient war reigniting, Dracula and Celeste must decide: can they trust each other, or will their own ambitions destroy them first?
Power. Betrayal. Desire. In a city where the lines between love and war are blurred, only one ruler will survive.
Episode One, Part One: The Fallen King Returns
Allsing District, Noctis—A City of Shadows
Noctis had not changed.
The city still reeked of sin, ambition, and hunger. But something was different.
A thick mist slithered through the narrow alleys of Allsing District, the oldest part of Noctis. The streets were ancient, the stones beneath them slick with forgotten blood. The buildings leaned against one another like old, tired men, their wooden beams rotting, their windows hollow and dark, watching.
Above, the sky stretched black and endless, swallowed by storm clouds that never broke. There was no moon tonight—Noctis did not need one. The city pulsed with its own eerie glow: the crimson neon of underground clubs, the silver gleam of limousines gliding like silent predators through the dark, the deep golden light spilling from estates where the true rulers of the night resided.
The air smelled of rain, rust, and something metallic—something old, like a wound that never healed.
In the depths of the district, where the lamps flickered weakly, stood The Rusted Stag, a tavern as old as the city itself.
It was a place for those who had nowhere else to go—the desperate, the damned, and the drunk.
Tonight, it was alive with murmurs, with whispers that slithered like ghosts through the smoke-filled air.
> "Lucius is hosting a grand celebration tonight. His queen grows stronger."
"They say his power has surpassed even the old legends."
"The king of vampires is no longer just a vampire. He is something… more."
The words hung in the air, half-spoken, half-feared.
The Three Drunks and Their Gossip
At a rickety wooden table, three men sat hunched over their drinks, their tankards half-empty, their faces flushed with intoxication.
The first man, Garrick, was broad-shouldered with thick, unkempt hair and a scar running down his cheek—a man who had seen too many fights and lost more than he won. He drank like a man trying to forget.
The second, Red Tom, was lanky, with sunken eyes and yellowing teeth. His fingers twitched as he spoke, always moving, as though afraid they'd be cut off if he kept them still.
The last, Big Saul, was bald, with a belly stretched tight over his stained tunic. He laughed too loud, his breath thick with ale and regret.
"I tell ya," Garrick grumbled, wiping foam from his beard. "Lucius ain't just a vampire anymore. He's a goddamn monster."
Red Tom snorted. "That's what happens when you bed a demon queen, ain't it? You get tainted."
Big Saul let out a wheezing chuckle. "Can't be that bad. If I had a queen that looked like her, I wouldn't complain. They say she's got the kind of beauty that makes men go mad."
Garrick shuddered. "Aye. And the kind that drinks their souls dry." He lowered his voice. "You ever seen her? Eyes like burning coals, skin pale as the dead. Ain't human. Ain't vampire, either."
Red Tom leaned in, his breath foul. "That's why Noctis ain't the same anymore. Used to be, we had lords and rulers, all fighting for power. Now?" He shook his head. "Now, we got one king. And he don't share."
Big Saul grunted, swishing his drink. "Better than the old days, I say. At least we know who's in charge. He keeps the peace, don't he?"
Garrick slammed his tankard down. "Peace? You call this peace? You forget what happened to the last poor bastard who spoke against him?"
Silence fell over the table. Even in their drunken state, some names were not spoken.
The Handsome Stranger
The tavern door creaked open.
A gust of cold air swept in, sending candle flames flickering. The men barely noticed—at first.
Then, he stepped inside.
He was tall, dressed in a dark coat that clung to his broad shoulders. His black hair, long and silken, fell past his shoulders, framing a face too perfect to belong in a place like this. High cheekbones, a sculpted jaw, lips that seemed carved from sin itself.
But it was his eyes that unsettled them.
They were not normal.
They were the color of the abyss.
When he moved, he did not walk—he glided, his steps soundless, his presence commanding.
For a moment, no one spoke. The usual drunken murmurs faded into silence as the stranger approached the bar.
He did not order a drink.
Instead, he turned toward the three men.
"Pardon me, gentlemen," he said, his voice rich, smooth—his English precise, elegant, refined. "I couldn't help but overhear."
Three pairs of eyes snapped toward him.
Garrick squinted. "And who might you be?"
The man offered a small, polite smile. "A traveler. A stranger to Noctis."
Red Tom let out a sharp laugh. "A stranger, eh? Then let me give you some advice, friend. This city ain't kind to strangers."
The man tilted his head slightly. "Oh?"
Big Saul chuckled. "Noctis is crawling with dark creatures. You never know who—or what—you're speaking to. Best tread carefully."
The stranger's smile deepened. "Sound advice."
Garrick leaned forward. "But if you're new 'ere, you best learn quick—there's only one king in Noctis."
The stranger feigned amusement. "Lucius?"
"Aye." Garrick took a swig of ale. "Rules every bloody district, from the slums to the high towers. Nobody crosses him and lives to tell."
The stranger let out a soft hum, almost thoughtful.
"So Lucius is ruling my city."
The words were barely spoken aloud, more to himself than them.
But the men heard him.
Garrick froze. Red Tom's eyes narrowed. Big Saul let out a drunken scoff.
"Your city?" Red Tom sneered. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?"
The stranger lifted his gaze, the amusement in his eyes turning to something else. Something ancient.
Something final.
He exhaled softly before speaking, his voice quiet—but absolute.
"Dracula."
Silence.
The tavern stilled.
The men stared.
The candles flickered, shadows stretching along the walls like long, grasping fingers.
A chill swept through the air, sudden and unnatural.
Big Saul swallowed hard. Red Tom's hands twitched. Garrick, for the first time in years, felt sober.
And Dracula?
Dracula simply smiled.
End of Part one
Episode One, Part Two: The King and His Queen
Lucius' Fortress – A Kingdom of Power and Sin
The grand fortress of Lucius was a palace built on decadence and dominance. A place where the elite and the damned mingled in a feast of indulgence, power, and whispered conspiracies.
The marble floors gleamed like liquid silver, reflecting the glow of grand chandeliers dripping with gold and crystal. Towering columns, carved from onyx and obsidian, stood like ancient sentinels, their surfaces inscribed with runes that pulsed with an eerie glow.
The air was heavy with the rich aroma of aged wine, burning incense, and forbidden pleasures.
Tonight, Lucius' empire was alive with celebration.
---
The Queen and Her Empire
High above the revelry, Davina stood on the balcony, her golden eyes sweeping over the scene below.
Royalty, celebrities, politicians, and creatures of the night filled the grand hall, their laughter mingling with the sound of soft music and whispered secrets.
Beyond them, beyond the fortress walls, stretched the city of Noctis—the empire Lucius had built.
And she, his queen, had stood by his side through it all.
She exhaled slowly, a smirk playing on her lips.
Her husband had done well.
But he had never done it alone.
---
The King's Arrival
A familiar presence approached from behind.
Then, strong, possessive hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against a firm chest.
Warm breath brushed against her ear. "Admiring our kingdom again?"
She smiled knowingly. Lucius.
He turned her in his arms, and she met his piercing silver gaze.
Lucius was a vision of dark beauty and power. His black silk suit clung perfectly to his broad frame, embroidered with gold. His jet-black hair was slightly tousled, as though he had just run a hand through it in deep thought.
His face—**all sharp angles, aristocratic cheekbones, and a strong jawline—**was framed by the faintest trace of a well-kept beard.
He smirked. "Or were you simply waiting for me?"
Davina let out a soft laugh, placing a delicate hand on his chest. "Lucius, must you always be so—"
Before she could finish, he tilted her chin up and claimed her lips in a deep, possessive kiss.
She melted into him, fingers curling against his suit.
But just as the moment was about to turn into something more—
---
A Disruption to the King's Pleasure
The doors burst open.
A figure strode in—Alford, one of Lucius' oldest and most trusted vampires.Tall, lean, with steel-gray hair slicked back and sharp crimson eyes that flickered with urgency, he walked with the efficiency of a soldier.
"My lord, forgive the intrusion."
Lucius let out an irritated sigh, resting his forehead against Davina's before reluctantly pulling away.
"You have a way of ruining the finest moments, Alford."
Alford dropped to one knee. "There is trouble, my lord."
Lucius ran a hand through his hair, clearly displeased, but nodded.
"Very well. I'll handle it."
He turned to Davina, brushing a stray curl from her face. "Don't wander too far, my love."
She gave him a small, knowing smile. "Would I ever?"
Lucius smirked and kissed her hand before turning and walking away.
The Cunning Queen
Davina watched him go, but she did not return to the party.
Instead, she followed.
Moving like a shadow, she kept a safe distance as Lucius greeted a few world-class guests, politicians, and celebrities.
Then, after ensuring that no one suspicious was watching, he slipped through a hidden door behind an elaborate tapestry.
Davina's eyes gleamed. So that's where he was going.
Her lips curled into a slow smile.
She had always known Lucius had his secrets. But he should have known better than to keep them from her.
Silently, she pressed her back against the cold stone wall, listening.
The War Council
Inside the hidden chamber, the air was thick with tension.
Around a long, black stone table, several high-ranking vampires stood, their expressions grim.
Lucius entered, his silver eyes cold. "Speak."
Alford stepped forward. "It's Celeste, my lord. She has claimed Sinford District."
Silence.
Then, Lucius' fingers tightened into a fist.
Celeste.
The White Alpha Queen.
The only true threat to his reign.
"How many casualties?" he asked, his voice eerily calm.
Alford's expression darkened. "More than twenty of our kind. Torn apart. Left as a message."
A growl rumbled deep in Lucius' chest.
One of the vampires spoke. "She's getting bolder, my lord. If we don't retaliate—"
"We will," Lucius interrupted, his voice laced with deadly promise.
"No one defies me and lives."
From her hidden spot outside, Davina smirked.
Oh, Lucius. So quick to anger.
But anger could be dangerous. It clouded judgment.
And that was why he needed her.
---
The Queen Makes Her Move
Moments later, as the vampires continued to strategize, the heavy doors creaked open.
Lucius looked up sharply. "Davina?"
The other vampires stiffened.
She stepped into the dimly lit room, her crimson gown flowing around her like liquid fire.
"You shouldn't make decisions without me, darling."
Lucius narrowed his eyes. "You were eavesdropping."
Davina feigned innocence. "Eavesdropping? Me? Oh, Lucius, you wound me."
Alford cleared his throat. "My lady, this is—"
"A war council?" she finished smoothly, stepping toward Lucius. "If we're talking about war, then I should be here."
Lucius studied her for a long moment.
Then, slowly, a smirk curled his lips.
"Very well, my queen."
She leaned in, her breath warm against his ear.
"Let me handle this."
Lucius raised a brow. "And how do you propose to do that?"
Her smile was slow. Dangerous.
"You forget, my love… I have demons at my disposal. Let me handle Celeste and she'll regret the day she became Alpha "
A flicker of understanding passed through his silver eyes. Then, slowly, he chuckled.
"Very well, my queen. Let them play."
Outside the Fortress – The Return of a Legend
Meanwhile, outside the towering walls of Lucius' fortress, a lone figure stood beneath the blood-red sky.
He tilted his head, gazing up at the fortress—his fortress.
A slow smirk curled his lips as he wiped the last trace of blood from his mouth.
Then, softly, he whispered—
"Home sweet home."
And with that, Dracula stepped into the lion's den.
Episode One, Part Three: The Return of the Prodigal King
The Grand Party – A Realm of Sin and Power
The night was alive with indulgence.
The grand ballroom of Lucius' fortress was a place where pleasure and power intertwined. The ceilings stretched high, adorned with golden chandeliers that dripped with candlelight. The walls were lined with blood-red velvet, etched with dark sigils.
Hundreds of immortals, nobles, and creatures of the underworld danced, whispered, and drank from golden goblets filled with more than just wine.
And amidst this, a shadow stepped into the party.
---
Dracula Arrives
He strolled in slowly, his sharp gaze sweeping over the luxurious scene.
The room was filled with **expensively and sophisticatedly dressed guests—**men and women wrapped in silk, fur, and shadows. Diamonds glittered, laughter echoed, and the air was thick with sin.
Dracula smirked.
"Ah… home sweet home."
He ran a gloved hand over a marble pillar, admiring the architecture. Lucius had done well for himself.
But luxury without power was nothing but decoration.
---
A Hypnotized Beauty
A woman in a deep crimson gown approached him, her eyes empty yet alluring.
She bowed slightly. "Welcome to the king's banquet, my lord. May I take your order?"
Dracula's eyes flickered, analyzing her. She was hypnotized.
He smirked. Lucius still enjoyed keeping his pets in a trance. How predictable.
He leaned in, brushing a gloved finger beneath her chin. "Wine," he ordered smoothly. "The finest you have."
She nodded mechanically and drifted away.
Dracula chuckled. "Such a shame… no free will left in these creatures anymore."
---
The Flirtation – A Seduction of Shadows
Before his drink arrived, another woman sauntered toward him.
She was a vision of temptation, dressed in black silk that clung to every dangerous curve. Her lips were the color of spilled wine, her eyes sharp as daggers.
She leaned against him, her perfume a mixture of roses and fresh blood.
"You don't belong here." Her voice was velvet. "I would have noticed you before."
Dracula smiled lazily. "Oh, sweetheart… you'd be surprised how well I can blend in."
She traced a cold finger along his jawline. "Handsome… mysterious… powerful." She leaned in, whispering, "Are you a king without a crown, perhaps?"
Dracula chuckled. "What makes you think I need a crown to rule?"
Her lips parted slightly, intrigued. "I like you."
Before she could say more—
---
A Foolish Interruption
A deep, irritated voice cut through the air.
"Enough, Sienna."
A vampire stepped between them, glaring.
He was one of Lucius' elite guards, dressed in black leather, his muscular arms lined with glowing runes. His crimson eyes burned with irritation.
"You shouldn't throw yourself at every stranger."
Sienna rolled her eyes. "Oh, relax. It's just harmless fun."
The guard didn't budge. "Our king wouldn't appreciate you flirting with a nobody."
Dracula raised a brow. "A nobody?"
The vampire scoffed. "You heard me."
Dracula let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Ah, what a shame. And here I thought this place had class."
The vampire narrowed his eyes. "Watch your tone, stranger."
Dracula grinned, his fangs gleaming. "Or what? You'll bore me to death?"
Laughter rippled through the surrounding guests.
The guard's face twisted in fury. "Enough of your insults!"
He lunged.
But before he could even touch Dracula—
SLASH!
In a blink, Dracula ripped through his throat with a single flick of his wrist.
The guard staggered, eyes wide in shock, clutching his neck as black blood poured down his chest.
Then—
THUD.
His headless body collapsed to the ground.
Dracula sighed in disappointment, wiping his gloves.
"Really? That's all?" He clicked his tongue. "What kind of vampires exist these days? No challenge at all."
The room fell deathly silent.
---
The King and Queen Arrive
A slow clap echoed through the ballroom.
Dracula turned.
At the grand staircase, Lucius stood, dressed in dark regal attire.
At his side, Davina, his queen, clung to his arm, her crimson gown flowing like liquid fire.
Behind them, an entourage of vampires and demons loomed.
Lucius smirked down at Dracula.
"The prodigal king returns home."
Gasps and murmurs spread across the room.
"Dracula?"
"The legend?"
"The greatest vampire of all time?"
Dracula grinned. "Lucius. Old friend. Or should I say… old servant?"
Lucius laughed, unbothered. "Oh, how times have changed." He spread his arms. "The servant is now the master."
Dracula tilted his head. "So I see. You've built quite the empire."
Lucius' silver eyes gleamed. "And I rule it all. The vampire world bows to me. The demons kneel at my feet. I am the king now."
Dracula gave a slow, sarcastic applause. "Bravo."
Lucius smirked. "I must say, I'm impressed. But tell me… what brings the great Dracula back? Surely, it's not just for the wine?"
Dracula's smile darkened. "I've come to claim my throne."
Silence.
Then—
A growl.
Several vampires bared their fangs, stepping forward in challenge.
Lucius held up a hand. "Relax, my children. Our guest is merely… nostalgic."
Dracula chuckled. "You misunderstand. I'm not here for war. Not yet, anyway." He downed the rest of his wine and smirked. "I'm here to celebrate."
Lucius watched him carefully. "Enjoy your time, then." His voice lowered. "It won't last."
Dracula stepped closer, whispering in his ear.
"Neither will yours."
Lucius kept his composure, but inside—he felt something he hadn't felt in centuries.
Fear.
Dracula turned away, flashing Davina a charming smile. "You look ravishing, my dear."
Davina smirked. "And you still love to stir chaos."
Dracula winked. "You know me too well."
He set down his empty glass, gave a final glance at the stunned crowd, and began to walk away.
As he passed Sienna, he winked. "Until next time, darling."
She bit her lip, watching him go.
Dracula smiled to himself.
He would take back what was his.
But not now.
For now, he would let Lucius sit on his borrowed throne.
Until it was time to rip it from his grasps.
Part four
The Witch and the Vampire King
Reya's office was a strange contradiction. The furniture was sleek and modern—black leather chairs, glass desks, neon lights—but the air reeked of ancient magic. The walls were lined with shelves stacked with arcane artifacts, each humming with a quiet, dangerous energy.
At the center of it all sat Reya.
She didn't look like an all-powerful witch, not tonight. Dressed in ripped jeans and a tank top, her long, dark hair tied into a messy bun, she tapped a pen against her desk, bobbing her head to a trending pop song playing from her phone.
Her eyes, however, betrayed her—glowing a faint, eerie violet, a color only those attuned to magic could recognize.
"Are you just going to stand there acting creepy, or are you actually going to say something?" she said, not bothering to look up.
A chuckle echoed from the shadows.
Dracula stepped forward, grinning as he moved with the slow, effortless grace of a predator. He wore a perfectly tailored black coat, his raven hair falling over his sharp features, and his deep red eyes gleamed with mischief.
He hopped onto her desk, sitting like he owned the place.
"Hello, lil' sister," he teased.
Reya groaned, tossing her pen at him. "I told you to stop calling me that."
Dracula caught it midair, spinning it between his fingers. "We may not share blood, but we share history, don't we?"
Reya rolled her eyes. "Yeah, two thousand years of history, and somehow, you still irritate me every time you walk through that door. How's Hell? You vanished without even saying goodbye "
Dracula smirked. "Missed me, then?"
Reya snorted. "Like a headache. I assume you did not come to reminisce about old days. Hit the nail on the head."
He chuckled, leaning back on his elbows. "So? What do you know about Lucius?"
Reya's teasing faded into something more serious. "He's getting stronger, Dracula. Too strong."
Dracula exhaled through his nose. "I know."
"But do you know how?" Reya leaned forward, her violet eyes burning into his. "It's not just his own power. It's Davina."
At the mention of her name, Dracula's smirk twitched.
"Davina," he mused. "Lucius' little demon queen."
"She's more than that," Reya said, her voice edged with warning. "Vampires and demons aren't meant to mix. Their magic, their essence—it's unnatural. That kind of bond is forbidden for a reason."
Dracula raised an eyebrow. "You sound concerned."
"You should be," Reya shot back. "If Lucius keeps ruling like this, the balance will break. The world will spiral into chaos."
Dracula waved a hand lazily. "So what's the solution? Kill Lucius?"
Reya scoffed. "If it were that easy, I'd have done it myself."
She stood, stretching out her fingers. Dark smoke curled from her fingertips, shaping itself into an eerie illusion in the air.
The smoky figures shifted—first Lucius and Davina, intertwined in a wicked, burning bond, their power growing stronger. Then, the illusion changed, twisting into something unexpected—
A new bond.
Dracula narrowed his eyes as the smoke settled into the image of him… and Celeste.
The White Alpha.
Dracula's expression darkened. "You're joking."
Reya grinned. "I never joke about prophecies."
Dracula let out a slow, exasperated sigh. "Of all the people in existence… you're telling me I have to marry a werewolf and not just any ordinary werewolf,an alpha"?!"
"Not just marry her," Reya corrected, waving a finger. "Your bond will either save the world… or doom it."
Dracula was silent for a moment. Then he let out a low, dark chuckle.
"Well," he muttered, "isn't that just bloody wonderful."
The shadows around him trembled.
Reya smirked, crossing her arms. "You always wanted to reclaim your throne, Dracula. Turns out, you just need a wedding to do it."
Dracula's jaw tensed, his mind already racing through the possibilities.
Reya also pitied Dracula.
Celeste. ,The White Alpha. The only woman in the world who hated vampires more than anything.
And his only chance at victory.
Dracula ran a hand through his hair and sighed.
"Fantastic."
The illusion vanished, leaving only the weight of its prophecy behind.
The shadows thickened. The night felt colder.
Dracula smiled—but it was the kind of smile that came before a storm.
Watch out for Episode two.