The first light of dawn was breaking as Damian returned to his ancestral home, an imposing palace hidden deep within the forest. The stone walls, covered in creeping ivy, held centuries of secrets and traditions. Here, Damian's days were a stark contrast to his nights with Lilith.

Inside the grand entrance hall, his mother, Seraphina, awaited him. Her beauty was timeless, her presence commanding. "Damian," she greeted, her voice cool and composed. "Another night in the village?"

He nodded, removing his cloak. "Yes, Mother. I find it... refreshing."

"Be careful, my son," she warned, her eyes piercing. "Humans are fragile and fleeting."

"I understand," he replied, not meeting her gaze. "Where is Father?"

"In his study, as always," she answered, a hint of disdain in her tone. "He has summoned you."

Damian made his way through the dimly lit corridors, passing portraits of long-dead ancestors. The air was thick with history and expectation. He paused outside his...