Crimson Petals: Vlad the Impaler's Gentle Echoes

Previously

…A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer, like heat rising from asphalt on a summer day, pulsed around the edges of my vision. It was a metaphysical tremor, a ripple in the fabric of reality that only I could perceive. I knew, with an absolute certainty that bypassed all logic, that Vlad was intervening. This wasn’t a physical battle, but a spiritual one, a subtle recalibration of the energies around us. My husband’s unkindness, his growing distance, was a discordance, and Vlad, my ancient protector, was ensuring that the harmony, however fragile, would not be entirely broken. I took a slow, deep breath, the scent of lemon balm a grounding presence. I was not alone. Vlad was here.