Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Fall Without Wings, Die Trying

It must have been some kind of neural projection technology.

Chloe was startled for a moment, but quickly regained her composure.

This was likely a war simulation playing directly within her mind.

Nothing was censored — every blood-soaked scene unfolded vividly before her, brutal and nauseating.

The images were so realistic that she could almost smell the metallic tang of blood clinging to the air around her.

Yet, such sights were nothing new to Chloe. In her previous life, she had witnessed far worse.

Back then, most of the zombies were grotesque — missing limbs was the least of it; what truly disgusted her was their drooling, fetid stench.

This time, it wasn’t so bad. Just... a little too bloody.

She wasn’t sure how long it lasted — long enough that she nearly drifted off — before the noise and images finally ceased.

The five-year-old pureblood sat quietly in her seat, appearing the very picture of grace and obedience.

Xavier removed the helmet from her head, and as Chloe looked up, she saw a tall glass in his hand — half-filled with fresh, crimson blood.

The same scent that had been teasing her senses all along.

So it wasn’t just a sensory illusion — he had been secretly drinking while she was distracted.

Chloe turned away, ignoring the so-called father before her, and began testing the other training devices.

Xavier watched the small figure busily moving about, lost in thought.

No trace of fear or trauma — that surprised him.

Over the next few days, Chloe could be found in the underground training chamber whenever she had a spare moment, experimenting with every weapon and mechanism she could find.

The helmet meant to build courage had long been tossed aside — utterly useless to her.

Her true fascination lay with the gleaming cold steel and the hum of modern firearms.

Barely knee-high, the little vampire held an ion cannon larger than her own head, firing shot after shot with unnerving precision.

Every twenty rounds she switched weapons, mastering each in turn — every blast hit the bullseye.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Standing behind Xavier, Corwin rubbed his chin.

“She doesn’t need us to teach her anything, my lord. Should we give the young lady her own firearm? She seems quite taken with them.”

“Not safe,” Xavier replied coolly. “A child should behave like a child. Running around with weapons all day — utterly unbecoming.”

Corwin fell silent.

If he wasn’t mistaken, the young lady could probably blow her father’s head off with a single shot.

He wisely kept his thoughts to himself and continued watching the girl’s training.

When Chloe finally emerged from the chamber, everyone was astonished — not a drop of sweat marked her pale skin.

“Do purebloods not sweat?” Corwin muttered.

A single cold glance from Xavier silenced him instantly.

Chloe herself couldn’t explain it.

By all logic, after such rigorous training, she should have been drenched and exhausted.

Yet she felt fine — more than fine. She could probably run a few more laps around the arena.

Xavier merely looked at her, then asked, “Does your back itch?”

“What?” Chloe blinked, reaching behind herself in confusion.

“When your energy becomes too strong to contain, your wings begin to grow,” Xavier said.

At once, she remembered Corwin’s great bat-like wings when they had first met.

Her eyes brightened. “I’ll have wings too?”

“All vampires do,” he replied. “Until your wings emerge, your energy will never settle.”

The moment a vampire’s wings unfurl is their first true transformation — the mark of becoming one of the Blood Clan in full.

Xavier lifted Chloe in his arms and ascended the winding corridor, up to the manor’s highest rooftop terrace.

The manor was built impossibly high — the clouds below stretched like an endless sea.

As Xavier carried her to the edge, a flicker of unease rippled through Chloe’s mind.

“Look down,” he said. “Are you afraid?”

Chloe peered over the edge, her voice steady. “No—”

Before the second word left her lips, Xavier’s hands released her.

He dropped her.

Chloe: “???”

Wind roared past her face, sharp as blades.

The ground was a distant blur, rising fast. One impact — that’s all it would take to shatter her into nothing.

Inwardly, Chloe cursed Xavier with every foul word she knew, desperately focusing her energy on her back, trying to summon her wings.

Her shoulder blades began to burn and itch — they were close, so close — but no matter how hard she tried, nothing emerged.

Her eyes glowed red, her fangs pierced her lip, the heat on her back seared like fire — yet the wings refused to come.

She tried to grab onto something, anything, but her small hands couldn’t reach the walls.

The ground loomed nearer — one more breath, and she’d be nothing but blood and bone.

Was she really going to die like this?

Up above, Xavier remained calm, lifting a hand.

Before he could act, Corwin had already launched himself downward.

In a blur of motion, he caught Chloe just before she hit the ground.

The sensation of falling vanished, replaced by warmth.

Chloe opened her trembling eyes to find Corwin’s handsome face hovering above hers, tight with concern.

“Miss Chloe, are you hurt?” he asked urgently, his hands inspecting her for wounds.

She caught his hand and shook her head.

Then Xavier descended, wings spread wide — nearly two meters across, magnificent and powerful, gleaming under the pale light.

A symbol of Blood Clan supremacy.

He looked every bit as if he had come to flaunt his strength.

And considering he’d just thrown her off a roof without warning — he probably had.

Chloe’s jaw clenched.

She wriggled free from Corwin’s arms and ran toward Xavier, lifting her arms in an innocent gesture.

Xavier raised an eyebrow, then bent down to lift her.

The moment she was in his embrace, the little pureblood sank her lone sharp fang into his neck.