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Chapter 610 135.8 - The Banquet

To anyone watching, it appeared as if Maya, overcome by the intensity of the evening, needed fresh air, and her ever-dutiful escort was simply helping her along.

Zharokath\'s gaze followed them for a brief moment longer, his smirk still in place, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. He believed the situation was under control, that Maya was slowly falling into his grasp. The demon was completely oblivious to the fact that, in the blink of an eye, something had been done to him—something subtle, something he wouldn\'t notice.

Astron\'s movements had been flawless. With the precision of a master, he had slipped a small, barely perceptible object onto Zharokath\'s clothes. It was nothing overt, nothing that would draw suspicion immediately, but its purpose would soon reveal itself in time.

As they passed through the grand ballroom, the eyes of various guests briefly flicked toward them, but there was no suspicion in their gazes—only polite curiosity. Lady Evergreen, the esteemed guest, was simply unwell, and her guardian was assisting her. It was a perfectly reasonable sight, one that fit the roles they were playing to perfection.

However, on the side of Maya things were a little different. She leaned into his support, but it wasn\'t just for the act anymore. Her head began to spin, the grandeur of the ballroom fading into a hazy blur, and her breathing became shallow, each breath feeling heavier than the last. She could feel an intense heat rising within her, her senses sharpening painfully, and beneath it all, the gnawing hunger—something darker, more primal—began clawing at her insides.

Her vampiric tendencies, usually under her control, were flaring up in a way she hadn\'t experienced in a long time. The urge for blood was almost overwhelming.

She clenched her teeth, fighting the feeling, but her fangs began to press painfully against her lips. It was more than just the usual hunger. This was something deeper, something darker—her demonic side.

\'No... Not here. Not now,\' Maya thought desperately, her steps faltering as her legs felt weaker. The hunger was unlike anything she had felt before—it wasn\'t just a need, it was a demand, a raw, consuming force that screamed for blood.

Her body was heating up, every nerve on fire, and she could feel the demonic energy coursing through her, amplifying the hunger tenfold.

Astron felt her weight shift, her body sagging slightly against him, and his expression, though calm, flickered with concern. He leaned closer, his voice low and steady. "Senior….. Is it?

Maya couldn\'t find her voice. Her throat felt tight, and every word she tried to form died before it left her lips. She clutched at his arm, her fingers tightening around the fabric of his jacket as she fought to keep herself together.

"I see…." Astron\'s arm tightened around her, sensing the growing unease. He guided her out of the ballroom, their exit still graceful but now filled with more urgency. As they reached the open air of the garden outside, the cool breeze hit Maya\'s heated skin, but it did little to quell the storm inside her.

"Senior," Astron said again, his voice more insistent but still calm, "look at me."

Maya\'s mind was a swirling storm of fear and hunger, the intensity of it all threatening to pull her under.

But beneath that hunger, a darker fear took root. The fear that her control, which she had fought so hard to maintain, was far weaker than she had ever realized.

If Zharokath had been able to affect her so easily, to stir the demonic energy within her so effortlessly, what did that mean for her future?

\'I\'m not ready,\' she thought, panic creeping into the edges of her mind. \'I thought I had control, but...\'

It was a wake-up call and, at the same time, a reminder of how dangerous a real demon was. Even just without not showing his powers fully and barely sending demonic energy into her, she was feeling this much effect.

The realization hit her harder than the hunger itself. It wasn\'t just that she was a vampire struggling with her natural instincts—it was that the demonic energy inside her was something she barely understood. Something she hadn\'t mastered. The idea that someone could so easily manipulate that part of her made her feel exposed and vulnerable.

Astron\'s voice cut through the haze, sharp and steady, grounding her for a moment. "Senior," he said again, his calm yet insistent tone breaking through the chaos. "Look at me."

Maya forced her eyes to focus on him, though it was difficult. Her vision wavered, and the world around them seemed to pulse with her frantic heartbeat. She could see the concern in his violet eyes, but also something more—trust. He wasn\'t afraid of her, even though she could feel herself slipping. He was right there, steady as ever.

Astron, I—"

"Don\'t be sorry. This time, it is because of me."

Astron\'s words were spoken quietly, almost as if he was mulling them over for himself. His tone was calm, but beneath it, there was a weight that Maya had never quite heard from him before. "This time, it\'s because of me," he said, his violet eyes flickering with a subtle, internal conflict. "I should have handled this alone."

Maya\'s breath hitched as she caught the faint guilt in his voice, her fingers tightening against his jacket. His words hit her harder than she expected, and the growing storm inside her shifted, not because of Zharokath\'s influence, but because of Astron\'s.

"No," Maya snapped, her voice firmer than she intended. She straightened, though her body still trembled from the lingering effects of the demonic energy.

Her eyes, still glowing faintly with hunger and frustration, locked onto Astron\'s, her expression fierce. "This isn\'t on you. I chose to be here. I wanted to be here."

Astron\'s gaze remained steady, but there was a flicker of something—perhaps doubt, perhaps resolve—as he listened.

Maya could see the gears turning in his mind, calculating, always planning his next move. But this time, his cold logic felt wrong to her, and the idea that he thought he should bear this burden alone only stoked the fire inside her further.

"I\'m not some helpless bystander," she continued, her voice growing softer but no less determined. "I knew what I was getting into when I came with you. I\'m not here because you made a mistake or because you needed help. I\'m here because I chose to be."

She took a step closer to him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of hesitation. "I didn\'t come here to watch you do everything on your own. You don\'t need to carry this alone."

Astron\'s eyes narrowed slightly, the weight of her words sinking in. He remained silent, his mind clearly turning over her argument, but his expression stayed unreadable, his features calm, his breathing controlled.

Yet Maya knew him well enough to sense the subtle conflict beneath the surface. He had always been the one to take on the heavier burdens, to make sure others were shielded from the worst of what they faced. It was how he had survived, how he had kept control over the chaos of his life.

But Maya wasn\'t going to let him use that same mindset with her. Not now.

"Sigh…." Astron let out a long sigh as he mumbled. "I guess so."

Just as his words hung in the air, pushing through the silence between them, the quiet sound of footsteps approached. Astron\'s eyes flicked to the side, catching sight of the butler as he stepped forward, his demeanor polite and professional.

"Excuse me, sir, Lady Evergreen," the butler began with a respectful nod. "I couldn\'t help but notice that you were heading toward the exit. May I ask if you are leaving for the evening?"

Astron\'s expression didn\'t change, his calm mask still in place as he glanced briefly at Maya before addressing the butler. "Yes, we are," he replied smoothly. "Lady Evergreen isn\'t feeling well. It would be best for us to leave."

The butler\'s brow furrowed slightly, concern flashing across his face, though his professionalism never faltered. "I see. I do hope it\'s nothing too serious. If you wish, I could have one of our healers bring a potion. We have a variety of remedies for such situations." n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Astron shook his head, his voice calm but firm. "That won\'t be necessary. It\'s nothing urgent, but I believe it\'s best we take our leave."

The butler nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Of course, sir. I\'ll inform the staff of your departure. Please, don\'t hesitate to let us know if you need anything further."

With that, the butler offered a polite bow and stepped back, leaving them alone once more. As he disappeared into the distance, Maya glanced at Astron, her eyes reflecting a mix of exhaustion and determination.

Astron\'s demeanor remained collected, but Maya could sense the subtle tension in him, the weight of the situation still lingering. Without a word, he reached into his pocket, tapping his smartwatch. He had already summoned the driver earlier, anticipating their exit, and as expected, the sleek black car was now waiting just outside the estate\'s grand entrance.

Astron gave a slight nod toward the car, his gaze briefly meeting hers. "The car is ready," he said quietly. "Let\'s go."

Maya let out a small breath, steadying herself as she followed his lead. The cold night air hit her skin as they stepped outside, the towering estate looming behind them. She could feel her strength returning little by little, but the weight of everything that had just happened still clung to her mind.

As they approached the car, the driver opened the door for them, and without another word, Maya slid into the backseat, followed closely by Astron. The door closed behind them with a soft thud, sealing them inside the quiet, dimly lit interior.

The engine purred to life, and as the car pulled away from the estate and inside, Maya jumped onto him immediately with her fangs as she could no longer hold it in.

She did not care about the driver since there was a barrier preventing any sound or vision from escaping.

********

As the final moments of the banquet wound down, Zharokath—still wearing the guise of Silas Vayne—concluded his business with Gerald Cox, Argen Delvora, and Vivienne Althea. The deal had gone smoothly, and the exchange had been flawless. Their cooperation would serve his purposes well in the human domain, each of them unwitting pawns in the larger scheme. Now that his goal for the night had been achieved, there was no reason for him to linger any longer.

\'Humans,\' Zharokath mused, his lip curling slightly in the privacy of his thoughts. \'This little one is just driven by Lust while the other one is a slave to his pride.\'

He offered one last polite nod to Gerald and the others, his expression still that of a gracious businessman as he excused himself from the gathering.

With careful precision, he maintained his demeanor—charming and poised—until he stepped through the large doors of the banquet hall and into the cool night air.

The driver, stationed by the luxurious car Zharokath had rented for the evening, straightened and immediately moved to open the door. Zharokath nodded appreciatively, slipping into the backseat of the vehicle with practiced grace.

The door clicked shut, and as the car pulled away from the estate, Zharokath allowed himself a brief moment of stillness. His expression relaxed, the mask of politeness falling away, replaced by the calm, calculating demeanor that truly defined him. His sharp eyes flickered as he glanced out the window, watching the lights of the estate grow distant.

The driver navigated the vehicle expertly through the darkened streets, but Zharokath wasn\'t concerned with their destination. This car and the driver were all just for show—a necessary illusion to maintain his facade. His true method of departure was far more efficient, far more secure.

Zharokath\'s hand brushed against a pendant hidden beneath his shirt—a dark, ancient artifact bound to his very essence. He murmured a few words under his breath, and the pendant responded, pulsing faintly with demonic energy.

The air around him shimmered subtly, a faint ripple of power that only he could perceive. His eyes briefly glowed with the energy, and in the blink of an eye, the scenery outside the car shifted. One moment, he was in the rented vehicle, driving through the streets.

The next, he found himself standing in the privacy of his personal quarters in Ardmont City, the teleportation completed without so much as a sound.

Zharokath stepped forward, his boots clicking softly on the polished marble floor of his residence. The room was dimly lit, draped in shadow—just as he preferred it.

Yet he did not know that something was glowing on his clothes.