MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

The news of the knight massacre had spread like wildfire, casting a pall of fear and suspicion over the vampire city. In the wake of the tragedy, paranoia ran rampant, and no one was above suspicion. After all, who could be trusted when even the sanguines, the very lifeline of the city, were suspected of treachery?

Within the cold, stone walls of the dungeons, the detained sanguines awaited their fate. They had been stripped of their freedom and dignity, confined to cells meant for the lowest of the low in the vampire world. Each day brought with it a heavy sense of dread, as they grappled with the knowledge that their lives hung in the balance.

The sanguines knew the truth behind the massacre, but they were bound by a dark and powerful influence that prevented them from speaking out. It was a force that lurked in the shadows, manipulating them like pawns on a chessboard, driving them to the brink of despair.

Despite the looming threat of trial and punishment, some of the sanguines harbored a flicker of hope. They yearned to speak their truth, to clear their names and expose the real perpetrators behind the massacre. But the memory of what had happened to those who dared to defy the darkness kept them silent, their voices choked with fear.

As the days turned into weeks, the atmosphere in the dungeons grew increasingly tense. Whispers of conspiracy and betrayal echoed off the cold stone walls, fueling the sanguines' sense of unease. They knew that time was running out, and that their fate was all but sealed.

As the days dragged on in the dim confines of the dungeon, a sense of desperation settled over the detained sanguines. Among them stood Marcus, the head in charge of blood delivery to the vampire city. Though he had not accompanied his subordinates to the city wall on the night of the massacre, he had been arrested nonetheless for sanctioning the blood that had poisoned the knights.

In the eyes of the other sanguines, Marcus was a beacon of hope. They looked to him for guidance and reassurance, expecting him to find a way out of their dire predicament. But beneath his calm exterior, Marcus grappled with his own doubts and fears. The weight of responsibility lay heavy on his shoulders, and he struggled to see a way forward.

The council had taken swift action in response to the massacre, launching an investigation that left no stone unturned. It was clear that they were not going to let such a grave issue slide, especially with over 40 knights poisoned. Marcus knew that the implications of the massacre were massive, and the consequences would be severe.

Despite his own uncertainty, Marcus knew that he had to maintain a facade of strength for the sake of his subordinates. He couldn't let them see the doubt and fear that gnawed at his insides. So he masked his inner turmoil behind a stoic expression, offering words of encouragement and reassurance to those around him.

But as the days turned into weeks, Marcus's facade began to crack. The pressure of their situation weighed heavily on him, and he found himself questioning whether he had made the right decisions. Had he been too trusting? Too complacent? He couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed his subordinates, and the guilt threatened to consume him....

As Marcus stood by the wall of his cell, barely able to discern anything in the dim light that filtered through, he felt a presence beside him. It was one of his subordinates, a young sanguine named Lucas, who had crawled over to his side.

"Lucas," Marcus greeted him softly, his voice tinged with weariness.

"Marcus, what's going on? What's our secret benefactor doing to get us out of here?" Lucas asked, his eyes wide with desperation.

Marcus hesitated, grappling with the weight of his own guilt and uncertainty. He knew that the one who had orchestrated the crime, the one they had all followed blindly, was no longer responding to his messages. The lines of communication had gone silent, leaving them stranded in the depths of the dungeon with no hope of rescue.

Looking into Lucas's pleading eyes, Marcus felt a pang of pity. All these lives were in his hands, and he couldn't bear to see them suffer any longer.

"There's ... there are plans," Marcus replied, his voice faltering slightly. "The people outside are working on a way to get us out of here. Things will sort themselves out, eventually."

It was a lie, and Marcus knew it. The truth was that their secret benefactor had abandoned them, leaving them to face the consequences of their actions alone. But he couldn't bring himself to shatter their fragile hope, not when it was all they had left to cling to in the darkness of the dungeon.

Lucas nodded, his expression one of relief mingled with lingering doubt. "Thank you, Marcus. We trust you."

Marcus forced a small smile, though it felt hollow on his lips. He knew that he was deceiving them, offering false hope in a desperate attempt to ease their suffering. But in that moment, it was the only comfort he could offer, and he clung to it as fiercely as they did.

As he listened with his keen ears beyond the cell walls, Marcus couldn't help but wonder how long their fragile facade would hold. But for now, he would continue to stand by his subordinates, doing whatever it took to keep their spirits from breaking completely. Even if it meant lying to them about their chances of escape.

And beyond the illusion of hope, Marcus knew the harsh reality of their situation. The prison was unlike any conventional one, its walls crafted from a material stronger than concrete, impervious to even the most powerful vampire's attempts to break free. Locked in this prison of their own making, they were truly at the mercy of fate, with no escape in sight.

***************

Rose tossed and turned in her bed, the uncomfortable mattress and the stench of the knight's quarters assaulting her senses. With a frustrated sigh, she finally pushed herself upright and reached for a robe, pulling it tightly around her form.

The baby within her stirred restlessly, its movements growing more pronounced with each passing day. Rose placed a hand on her swollen belly, feeling the gentle flutter of life beneath her palm. Despite the discomfort and the uncertainty that surrounded her, the presence of her unborn child brought her a sense of solace and strength.

Feeling suffocated by the oppressive atmosphere of the room, Rose knew she needed to get some air. With determined strides, she made her way to the door, her robe billowing behind her.

As she stepped out into the corridor, a cool breeze greeted her, refreshing and invigorating. The faint glow of moonlight bathed the surroundings in a soft, ethereal light, casting long shadows along the stone walls.

Rose took a deep breath, relishing the sensation of fresh air filling her lungs. Despite the challenges she faced, she refused to let herself be consumed by despair. She was a fighter, and she would endure whatever trials came her way for the sake of her unborn child.

Rose wandered the corridors of the Shelly castle, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and memories. The news of the Knight's massacre had cast a pall of caution over the inhabitants of the castle and most part of the city, but within these walls, Rose felt safe from any external threat.

Passing by the two knights stationed at the main gate entrance, Rose barely spared them a glance. Their lack of greeting only served to underscore the sense of isolation she felt within her own home.Much like everyone else, the knights were disrespectful to her as well and it was all thanks to her mother, Gladys.

But Rose paid their disrespect no mind as she continued her solitary stroll, seeking refuge from the chaos and noise that seemed to pervade every corner of her life. For a fleeting moment, she found a semblance of peace in the quiet of the castle halls.

Yet, even in the stillness of the night, memories of her former life as a CEO haunted her thoughts. She couldn't help but long for the spacious penthouse and the solitude it once afforded her. But as she reflected on the tumultuous months leading up to Blake's disappearance, she realized that her life had never truly been quiet.

The relentless scrutiny of the media, coupled with the unexpected presence of Blake in her life, had shattered the illusion of tranquility she had once clung to. Despite her initial resistance, Blake had managed to win her heart, awakening emotions she had long believed to be dormant.

As Rose's thoughts drifted to memories of Blake and the moments they shared, a sudden interruption jolted her back to the present. The sound of footsteps echoing around the corner pulled her from her reverie, alerting her to the presence of someone nearby.

Her heart rate quickened, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity coursing through her veins. Who could be wandering the outer castle areas at this hour? Was it a servant going about their duties, or perhaps another member of the Shelly family?

With cautious steps, Rose approached the corner, her senses on high alert. She braced herself for whatever—or whoever—awaited her around the bend, her mind racing with a myriad of possibilities.

As she rounded the corner, her eyes widened in surprise at the sight before her...

"Dravena? ...and who is that? Certainly doesn't smell like a vampire...or human even,"