Chapter 3: Chapter 3 — Beat the Hell Out of My Father

Was this man insane?

Chloé lowered her gaze to the pale, vein-laced arm before her. Well, since he’s offering… she thought, and without hesitation, sank her fangs in.

Crack!

Something about that sound felt… off. A little too loud, perhaps?

A second later, something small clattered to the floor.

Chloé blinked, following the sound—only to see a tiny white fang lying there. Her own.

For a moment, she froze.

Her undefeated fang—broken?

Was this some kind of sick joke?

Before she could recover, a low chuckle sounded above her.

Her head snapped up, eyes blazing. “What are you laughing at?”

“At your missing tooth,” Xavier said lazily.

He brushed a finger across the faint mark on his arm where her bite had barely pierced the skin. A shadow flickered in his gaze, though his tone remained indifferent.

“Vampire fledglings don’t grow their next set of fangs for another seven years. Until then, you’ll have to live with that little gap.”

A rare smile curved his lips as he observed her reaction with detached amusement.

Chloé bent down and picked up her broken tooth, fury simmering beneath her calm façade.

Seven years? She’d be thirteen by then!

Was she supposed to go toothless until that day?

Rage ignited in her chest. Her small, pudgy hands clenched around the tiny fang, and with a snarl, she lunged straight at him.

“You bastard! I’ll bite you to death!”

At her size, the charge looked almost comical—a tiny cannonball hurled at full speed.

Xavier effortlessly stopped her with one hand pressed to her forehead. “Blaming others for your own lack of strength?” he said coolly.

Her round little face scrunched up in indignation. “You told me to bite you!”

“I never told you to bite that hard,” he replied, unfazed.

Truthfully, even he hadn’t expected her to draw blood. As the progenitor of the vampire race, his skin and fangs were unmatched in strength. Even a full-grown pureblood would struggle to leave a mark on him.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

And yet this tiny fledgling had managed it—though at the cost of her tooth.

Xavier’s lips twitched again as he noticed the glaring gap in her mouth, her attempt at ferocity rendered irresistibly absurd.

He laughed outright.

That was the final straw. Chloé roared and launched herself at him again.

Corvin, acting on instinct, caught her midair.

Her first reflex was to sink her teeth into his hand—but she stopped herself, barely, glaring instead. “Put me down! I’m going to kill him today!”

Corvin discreetly eyed the fallen tooth and cleared his throat. “Now, now, let’s stay calm, little miss.”

Calm? Impossible. Trapped in the body of a five-year-old, Chloé’s temper was as fierce as her instincts. The injustice of losing her tooth burned like fire.

Xavier, expression once more cool and remote, leaned down slightly, his voice calm and steady.

“When your strength is enough, you may come seek vengeance.”

His tone was steeped in quiet disdain. With that, he turned on his heel and strode out, closing the door behind him.

Only then did Corvin release her. The tiny vampire stood trembling with rage, her cherubic face twisted into a scowl.

“His Majesty just has… an eccentric temperament,” Corvin offered weakly. “In truth, he does care for you.”

“I don’t need his affection,” Chloé snapped.

That arrogant, sadistic man—when she grew up, she’d make sure to bite his damn hand clean off.

Corvin opened his mouth, intending to defend his king, but the fledgling spoke first.

“I’ve decided,” she said, eyes burning. “I’m going to become stronger.”

He blinked, pleasantly surprised. “That’s the spirit, Chloé. Trust me—within a century, you’ll be the pride of our—”

“—and then I’ll beat the hell out of my father.”

“...What?” Corvin gaped.

Ambitious. Rebellious. Gloriously delusional. Wanting to overthrow the Vampire Progenitor himself was, perhaps, a noble dream for a five-year-old.

But even prodigious fledglings had to attend vampire kindergarten.

Chloé sat stonily atop a painted wooden rocking horse, her cold composure a sharp contrast to the other wailing toddlers around her.

Beside her, a cheerful teacher waved a stuffed bear in her face, cooing in a saccharine voice, “Chloé, sweetheart, would you like to play with the teddy bear?”

Chloé spared the toy a single glance, then turned her gaze away, utterly uninterested.

The teacher froze. “...”

Well… wasn’t she a special one.

Truly her father’s daughter.

By midmorning, most of the fledglings had relaxed and begun to play together.

All except Chloé, who remained on her horse, rocking idly, studying her surroundings like a tiny queen surveying her domain.

Then, a fluffy blond head popped into view beside her.

She looked down to see a chubby little boy with golden curls and a self-satisfied grin.

He held out a piece of chocolate with the air of a conqueror. “Here. Be my girlfriend. From now on, I’ll protect you in this kindergarten.”

“...Girlfriend?” Chloé repeated flatly.

“Yeah!” He puffed up proudly. “I’m the biggest kid here. If you’re my girlfriend, no one will dare bully you!”

Then, as if to prove his status, he pointed toward a group of girls lounging near the best corner of the ball pit.

“See them? They’re my girlfriends too!”

Chloé blinked.

Well. A miniature playboy.

She found herself almost amused. “So, you’re the boss of this kindergarten?”

He nodded, beaming.

His gaze lingered on her sleek black hair and porcelain skin. “If you take this chocolate and agree, you’ll be my number one girlfriend. I don’t mind that you lost a tooth—doesn’t bother me. I’ll always think of you first!”

Chloé’s eye twitched. The tooth. Again.

“Oh?” she said sweetly, glancing at the chocolate. “How generous of you. But I don’t really want your chocolate.”

Her expression hardened. “Besides, I’m not interested in being your girlfriend. I’d rather be the boss of this kindergarten myself.”

The boy’s face fell. “You—you want to take my place? That’s impossible!”

“Is it?” Chloé slid gracefully off the rocking horse, raising a tiny fist. “Then let’s find out.”

The boy puffed up his chest and bumped his fist against hers.

“Fine! Let’s fight for it!”