CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 8

Elias woke up feeling like his body had been wrung out and left to dry in the sun. His limbs were heavy, his head thick with a sluggish haze. The room was dim, but even the soft candlelight made his eyes ache. He swallowed against the dryness in his throat, wincing as he pushed himself up.

“Still alive, I see.”

Lucian’s voice came from the doorway. Elias turned his head too quickly, and the room tilted. He groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead.

Lucian was beside him in an instant, kneeling on the bed as he pressed the back of his hand to Elias’ forehead. His touch was cold—too cold.

“You’re burning up,” Lucian muttered, his expression darkening.

Elias swatted his hand away, leaning back against the pillows. “It’s just exhaustion. I’m fine.”

Lucian didn’t look convinced. He stood and disappeared into the adjoining room, only to return moments later with a tray. A bowl of steaming broth sat in the center, alongside a slice of bread and a cup of tea.

Elias blinked at it. “Seriously?”

Lucian arched a brow. “Do you want to collapse again?”

Elias scowled but reached for the bowl. His hands trembled slightly as he lifted the spoon to his lips. The broth was rich and warm, sliding down his throat with a comforting heat.

Lucian watched him eat, arms crossed. “I don’t see the point in letting you starve if I want to keep you alive.”

Elias snorted. “How generous of you.”

Lucian smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”

Elias continued eating, surprised at how easily the food settled in his stomach. Despite his feverish haze, he felt better with each bite.

Lucian stood abruptly. “I have something to take care of. I won’t be long.”

Elias frowned. “What could be so important?”

Lucian’s expression turned unreadable. “Just rest, Elias.”

And then he was gone.

Elias sighed, pushing the tray aside. He wasn’t tired—not really. His body felt off, yes, but his mind was restless. Staying in bed wasn’t an option.

He got to his feet, swaying slightly before catching himself on the bedpost. “Okay,” he muttered. “Not great.”

Still, he forced himself to move. He left the bedroom, wandering down the long, silent halls of the mansion. The more he walked, the more he realized just how empty it felt. There were no sounds, no bustling servants—just the occasional flicker of movement in the shadows.

Portraits lined the walls, their painted eyes following him. Some of them looked centuries old, their colors faded with time. Others were newer, their details sharper.

One in particular caught his attention. It depicted a man with hauntingly familiar features—high cheekbones, piercing eyes, an air of cold detachment.

Lucian.

But he looked different. Younger. Or maybe just less… weary.

Elias reached out, fingers brushing the frame—

A wave of dizziness slammed into him.

His vision blurred, the walls seeming to bend around him. His knees buckled, and he barely managed to stagger back before everything tilted violently.

He stumbled, catching himself against the wall.

“Damn it,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

The exhaustion was back, heavier than before, sinking into his bones. His body ached in a way that wasn’t normal.

Something was wrong.

Forcing himself to move, he turned back toward the bedroom, each step feeling like he was wading through water. By the time he reached the bed, he barely managed to crawl under the covers before his strength gave out completely.

His last thought before slipping into unconsciousness was simple.

What the hell is happening to me?

Darkness swirled around him like ink spilled across water, thick and endless. He wasn’t in Lucian’s room anymore. He wasn’t anywhere. The space around him pulsed—alive, watching.

Then, soft as a breath against his ear, a voice whispered, “Elias.”

His entire body tensed. The voice was smooth, dripping with a honeyed lure, but something about it sent a chill down his spine.

“Elias, you must listen to me.”

A figure emerged from the shadows, stepping forward with unnatural grace. A woman.

She was beautiful in a way that felt wrong—too perfect, too sharp. Dark hair spilled over her shoulders, curling at the ends like smoke. Her eyes, a shade of violet that shimmered in the darkness, locked onto his.

Elias took a step back, heart hammering. “Who the hell are you?”

The woman smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I am Isadora.”

The name sent an eerie shiver down his spine. He had never heard it before, and yet… it felt like he should have.

Isadora tilted her head. “I have been waiting to speak with you, Elias. I have been trying to reach you for some time.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe you should’ve taken the hint.” He folded his arms. “I don’t like strangers whispering in my head. Are you the cause of my sickness?”

She stepped closer. He stepped back.

“You are in danger,” she murmured, eyes locking onto his. “Lucian is not what you think he is.”

Elias let out a short laugh. “Oh, trust me, I have no illusions about what Lucian is.”

Isadora frowned. “You believe he cares for you?”

Elias hesitated. He shouldn’t answer. He didn’t trust her, didn’t even know what she was, but something in the way she watched him made his chest tighten.

He set his jaw. “I believe that if you’re here, trying this hard to turn me against him, then he’s more dangerous to you than he is to me.”

Isadora’s gaze darkened. “You don’t understand. He does not need you. He consumes you. You are nothing but a means to an end.”

“Funny,” Elias shot back.

Her lips curled, sharp with amusement. 

He said nothing.

Her expression softened, and she reached out, fingertips ghosting toward his cheek. “Elias, I am the only one who truly knows what he is. What he will do to you.”

A sudden, violent dread crawled up his spine.

He jerked back. “Don’t touch me.”

Isadora’s face darkened, her eyes flickering with something deep and old—anger, frustration.

“You are making a mistake.”

Elias steadied his breathing, forcing himself to hold her gaze. “If that’s true, then let me make it.”

The shadows around her pulsed, curling at her feet like a living thing. She looked

like she was masking her anger.

“I will see you again, Elias.”

The dream shattered like glass, and Elias woke up gasping.