Chapter 3: Shadows of the Past

Lucian moved through the dense forest with inhuman speed, the night bending to his will as he approached the hidden castle. The looming structure emerged from the mist, its spires piercing the heavens like jagged claws. The ancient stone walls, covered in ivy, whispered of centuries of secrets, bloodshed, and betrayals.

He paused at the threshold, his silver eyes narrowing as the weight of the past settled over him. This place, once a sanctuary, now felt like a tomb. Every corner was haunted by shadows he couldn’t outrun—ghosts of choices made and lives lost.

Pushing the heavy doors open, he stepped inside. The grand hall was as cold and dark as he remembered, lit only by flickering sconces lining the walls. The air carried the faint scent of decay and something sweeter—blood.

As he ascended the winding staircase, the whispers of memories clawed at him. One image stood out above the rest: a woman with fiery determination in her eyes, her dark hair cascading like a river of midnight. She laughed, her voice like music, and reached for him—Aria.

No, not Aria. Not her.

Lucian shook the memory away, but the resemblance was undeniable. The past and present were colliding in a way he didn’t fully understand, and it unnerved him.

---

At the highest tower of the castle, Evangeline waited.

The vampire queen was draped in a gown of deep crimson, the fabric flowing like liquid fire around her. Her golden hair was pinned back, revealing sharp cheekbones and lips painted the color of fresh blood. Her amber eyes gleamed with amusement as Lucian entered.

“Ah, my dear Lucian,” she purred, rising from her throne-like chair. “You’ve returned. And here I thought you’d abandoned this place for good.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Evangeline,” Lucian said coldly, his voice echoing through the chamber. “I’m not here for pleasantries.”

Evangeline’s smile widened, revealing gleaming fangs. “No, I suppose you’re not. Let me guess—this is about the Crimson Fated, isn’t it?”

Lucian’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

“Ah,” she said, taking slow, deliberate steps toward him. “It is about her. How fascinating. You’ve seen her, haven’t you? The one marked by fate.”

Lucian’s silence was answer enough.

Evangeline laughed, the sound sharp and mocking. “How predictable. You’ve always had a weakness for mortals, Lucian. Is she beautiful? Strong? Does she remind you of her?”

He bristled at the implication, his fists clenching at his sides. “Leave the past out of this.”

“But the past is so delicious, isn’t it?” she said, circling him like a predator. “She’s not the first, and she won’t be the last. The prophecy is a cycle, Lucian. One you cannot break, no matter how hard you try.”

“You don’t understand the prophecy any more than I do,” Lucian shot back. “But I won’t let you manipulate her. Whatever your schemes are, they end now.”

Evangeline’s smile faded, her expression turning icy. “Oh, Lucian. You think you can stop me? The Crimson Fated is more than a mere mortal. She’s a key—a weapon. And if you don’t have the stomach to wield her, I will.”

Lucian’s patience snapped. In a blur of motion, he had her pinned against the cold stone wall, his hand at her throat. “If you so much as touch her, I will end you, Evangeline. Do not test me.”

Her laughter was strained but unyielding. “Such passion. You care for her already, don’t you? How quaint.”

Lucian released her abruptly, stepping back. He hated how easily she could unnerve him, how she could read the truths he tried to hide even from himself.

“She is nothing to me,” he said, his voice hollow. “But I won’t let her be your pawn.”

Evangeline straightened her gown, her demeanor returning to one of regal composure. “Then you’d better act quickly, my dear Blood King. The shadows are moving, and they hunger for her blood. If you’re not careful, she’ll fall into their hands—or worse, mine.”

Lucian turned without another word, his cape billowing behind him as he left the chamber.

---

Alone in his private quarters, Lucian sat by the window, staring out at the moonlit forest. He could still hear Evangeline’s taunts, her words digging into his mind like thorns.

She wasn’t wrong. Aria reminded him too much of her—the woman he had loved and lost so many centuries ago. And that terrified him.

His hand drifted to his chest, where a faint scar lay hidden beneath his clothing. A reminder of the last time he had tried to defy fate, to protect someone he cared for. He had failed then, and the consequences had nearly destroyed him.

He couldn’t fail again.

But as he thought of Aria—her fiery spirit, her courage, the way she had looked at him with both fear and defiance—he felt the walls he had built around his heart begin to crack.

Lucian clenched his fists, his silver eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

He had made a vow long ago to protect humanity, to fight the monsters that threatened the fragile balance between their worlds. But now, the lines were blurring, and he was no longer sure who the real monsters were.

One thing was certain: he would protect Aria, even if it meant facing the shadows of his past.

Even if it meant facing the prophecy that threatened to consume them both.