Liam kicked at a stone on the sidewalk, scowling as it skittered across the concrete. Something wasn't right about that guy. Who lives alone in a place like that at his age? That penthouse apartment in the most expensive building in town, with its floor-to-ceiling windows and modern art pieces that probably cost more than Liam's parents made in a year. No parents, no guardians, just a teenager with enough money to rent a luxury apartment? It didn't add up. He had to be running from something – or someone. Maybe he'd stolen from the wrong people, maybe he'd done something worse... A chill ran down Liam's spine as he remembered the way Lucien sometimes looked at people – like he was seeing right through them, like he knew all their secrets. And those eyes... those unnatural gray eyes that made Liam's primitive hindbrain want to run and hide. A movement in the shadows caught his eye. Four figures stood clustered in the darkness between streetlights, watching something – or someone. Th
Scarlett's mind raced as her heart pounded against her chest. She had to do something - anything. These vampires would kill them both if she didn't act fast. But what could she do against four ancient vampires? She wasn't strong enough, wasn't ready for this kind of fight. She'd never even gotten to finish her training with Lucien. Now she was alone, and Liam was in danger because of her. That's when she heard it. A voice. Deep and ancient, it echoed through her mind like thunder rolling across a distant sky. It felt old, and it made her bones vibrate with its power. "Let me help you, child," it whispered, its words sliding through her mind. "Let me give you the power to save him. All you have to do is let go... All you have to do is surrender to me..." The voice made her freeze, her thoughts scattering. She'd never heard anything like it before - so powerful, so tempting, so dangerous... "Scarlett! Snap out of it!" Liam's hands were suddenly on her shoulders, shaking her roughly.
The sun was going down over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and red. Beneath it, a figure ran in a blur past streets and hidden alleyways, carefully avoiding people. Lucien. His feet barely touched the ground as he moved with inhuman speed, sticking to the shadows and empty paths. His mind was set on one thing only - Scarlett. He had to get to her. After Electra had told him about Jacob and some vampires moving to the human world while he was stuck in the council, his mind had been uneasy. He couldn't focus on anything else. "Damn it all," he muttered under his breath, leaping over a fence without breaking stride. "If anything happens to her..." He swore deep down that if anything happened to her, he would kill Ezra himself. He had had enough of his elder brother's torment and games. Enough of the manipulation, enough of the politics. Enough of everything. As he ran, a memory flashed through his mind. It was him and his brother, both serving Lady Selena, Queen o
Lucien's rage bubbled and his eyes shone red as he took in the scene before him. Liam was being drained by one of Jacob's friends while Jacob and another cornered Scarlett. But Scarlett... something seemed off about her. Then she screamed. And Lucien felt it. That presence. A presence so old he'd forgotten. That presence that was the source of worry for the vampire counsel and the reason they summoned him in the first place. He gasped out, "Morpheus..." as his eye glow dimmed. This was how Elena started before she had to sacrifice herself. He watched as Jacob and his friends faltered and became uneasy as they watched her. The sadistic one dropped Liam who crumpled to a heap, but Lucien could still hear his heart beat confirming he was still alive. "What's happening to her?" one of the vampires whispered, backing away slowly. "I don't know," another replied, his voice shaking. "Jacob, what is this?" As Lucien took a step towards them, she raised a hand in his direction without l
Liam crawled to his feet, his head pounding like a jackhammer. The world spun around him as he stared up at the night sky, confusion washing over him. "What... what the hell happened?" he mumbled, touching his neck where two small puncture wounds stung. His fingers came away with traces of blood. His heard hurt as he start at the sky where his room roof should've been. "Why the hell am I on the ground in a...street?" That's when he heard the sobbing. Turning his head—which made everything spin worse—he saw Lucien holding Scarlett, who was crying into his chest. "I'm so sorry," she kept repeating through her tears. "I couldn't stop it. I couldn't control it." "Shh, it's okay," Lucien whispered, stroking her hair. "It wasn't you. It wasn't your fault." Everything came rushing back to Liam like a freight train. Those guys following Scarlett. Him trying to be the hero. Their eyes glowing red in the darkness. Scarlett whispering that terrifying word: "Vampires." One of them looking
Lucien stood in the shadows across from Scarlett's house, watching until the light in her bedroom window flickered on. His jaw clenched as he replayed the events of the night in his mind—Scarlett possessed by Morpheus, Jacob and his friends attacking, the ancient power that had surged through her. And that moment, just now, when he'd almost given in to the desire that had been building between them since they first met. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. There would be time for that later. Right now, he had unfinished business. "Jacob," he whispered into the night, his voice carrying a promise of vengeance. "You won't escape me." Lucien knew vampires well. Despite their centuries of existence, despite all their power and knowledge, they had one fatal flaw—pride. And Jacob's pride wouldn't allow him to run away completely, not when three of his friends had been turned to ash before his eyes. Not when a human like Liam had witnessed his fear. No, Jacob would want to
Jacob straightened as he scoffed at how easy it had been. He had been scared for nothing. But then something strange happened. The blood on the wall began to shimmer, like water disturbed by ripples. Lucien's body around Jacob's arm grew less substantial, fading like morning mist under the sun. Jacob's eyes widened in horror as the Lucien he thought he'd killed dissolved into nothing—a dream, an illusion, a phantom. "No," he whispered, spinning around frantically. "NO!" "Yes," came Lucien's voice from behind him. Before Jacob could react, a hand like iron clamped around his throat, lifting him off his feet and slamming him against the brick wall. Mortar cracked and dust rained down from the impact. Lucien's gray eyes were now glowing with an inner light, his face a mask of cold fury. "You should have never attempted to hurt her," he said, his voice deadly quiet. Jacob clawed at the hand around his throat, his feet kicking uselessly a foot above the ground. "Please," he gasp
The vampire settlement was eerily quiet as Ezra sat upon his ornate throne, fingers drumming against the armrest. His patience was wearing thin. The scout he'd sent to watch Jacob and his friends should have returned by now. So should the retrieval team he'd dispatched for Scarlett. Ezra stood abruptly, pacing the stone floor of the ancient chamber. The plan had been simple enough—let Jacob and his friends approach the girl, test her abilities, but not harm her. If they showed signs of betraying him, his scout would report back immediately. Ezra hadn't truly expected betrayal; the consequences for crossing him were... brutal. "Where are they?" he muttered, his voice echoing off the cavernous walls. They should be back by now before Lucien arrives in the human world. Had he found out? no no. That wasn't possible. He had sent them while Lucien was still in the council. So what was delaying the fools? Just as he was about to retake his seat, a sharp pain lanced through his chest. H
Morning light streamed through the kitchen window, painfully bright to Scarlett's exhausted eyes. She hadn't slept a wink after the incident with the blood message and Lucien's cryptic words. Instead, she'd spent the remaining hours of darkness huddled in her bedroom with every light switched on, jumping at every creak and groan of the house settling. The distant sound of a key turning in the front door lock made Scarlett's heart skip a beat before she remembered—it was just her mother returning from her night shift. With a deep breath, she pushed herself up from the kitchen table where she'd been nursing a cup of cold coffee and went to greet her. "Mom?" Scarlett called softly, making her way to the entryway. Her mother looked up as she hung her coat on the hook by the door, seeming startled by Scarlett's presence. "Sweetheart! You're up early." She tilted her head, studying Scarlett's face. "Goodness, you look exhausted. Trouble sleeping?" Scarlett managed a weak nod, her eyes d
Night had fallen by the time Scarlett made it home, the house dark and empty. Her mother's night shift had already begun, leaving Scarlett alone with her thoughts and fears. She checked every lock twice, drew every curtain, and still couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. After a meager dinner of cold cereal—the only thing her churning stomach could handle—she retreated to her bedroom, pulling out her notebook of lucid dreaming research. The pages blurred before her eyes as exhaustion tugged at her consciousness. No matter how much she tried to focus, her mind kept drifting back to the day's events: her mother's strange behavior that morning, Claire's fear, Liam's memories, and Lucien's absence. Where was he when she needed him most? Her phone remained stubbornly silent, her texts unanswered. The clock on her desk ticked past midnight as she flipped through her notes, desperate for something—anything—that might explain what was happening. "I should just go to sleep," s
The hallways of Crestwood Academy seemed normal enough on the surface—students rushing to class, lockers slamming, the usual sense of teenage life—but to Scarlett, everything felt off-way off. Like the world had shifted slightly on its axis when she wasn't looking. Lucien's absence was the first thing she'd noticed. He didn't approach her on her way home as usual, his desk empty with Mr Peterson marking him absent without comment. No text explaining why. No warning he wouldn't be there. Just... gone. But it was Claire's behavior that truly unsettled her. Claire—who had made it her personal mission to torment Scarlett since she started this school—was acting like a cornered animal. Jumpy. Paranoid. Her usual confidence replaced by something that looked suspiciously like fear. During lunch, Scarlett watched as Claire's eyes darted nervously around the cafeteria, flinching at every loud noise. When their gazes accidentally met across the room, Claire's face drained of color, and
Morning light filtered through the kitchen curtains, casting long golden rectangles across the worn wooden table. Scarlett sat with her bowl of cereal untouched before her, the flakes slowly turning to mush as she stared absently at them. Dark circles shadowed her eyes—evidence of her sleepless night after the nightmare that had felt too real to dismiss. Across the table, her mother nursed a cup of coffee, her third since waking. Usually, the morning routine was filled with her mother's chatter about hospital gossip or gentle reminders about Scarlett's schedule. Today, there was only silence, broken occasionally by the soft ticking of the wall clock and the distant sound of birds outside. Scarlett watched her mother with growing concern. She seemed... off. Present physically but mentally elsewhere, staring into her coffee mug as if it contained mysteries she couldn't quite decipher. Every few minutes, she would lift the mug to her lips, then pause, looking momentarily confused abou
Cold air swirled around her skin, not like a natural breeze but like ghostly fingers trailing across her arms, her neck, her face. Each touch sent violent shivers through her body. "Hello?" she called out, her voice sounding muffled and distant, as if the void itself was absorbing the sound. "Is anyone here?" Silence answered her, pressing against her eardrums with its weight. Scarlett turned slowly, searching for any landmark, any point of reference in the featureless expanse. There was nothing but darkness and more darkness. Then, a voice—low, rich, and filled with amusement—whispered from somewhere both impossibly far away and terrifyingly close. "You're finally listening." The words seemed to caress her skin, each syllable leaving a trail of ice in its wake. Scarlett spun around, trying to locate the source, but the voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. "Who's there?" she demanded, forcing steel into her voice despite the fear bubbling in her chest. "Show yourself!"
Scarlett locked the front door after Lucien left, sliding the deadbolt into place with a solid click that echoed in the quiet foyer. She stood there for a moment, her palm flat against the cool wood, remembering the intensity in Lucien's eyes when he'd told her to secure everything. "Lock your doors tonight, Scarlett. All of them. And your windows." His words replayed in her mind as she moved through the house, methodically checking each window and ensuring each latch was firmly secured. The house was silent except for the steady tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the hallway, its pendulum swinging with hypnotic regularity. Her mother had already retired upstairs, exhaustion finally claiming her after her hospital shift and the unexpected dinner guest. In the living room, Scarlett's fingers hovered over the light switch. The darkness beyond the windows seemed to press against the glass, watching, waiting. She hesitated, glancing toward the window that faced the old oak tree—the
Scarlett walked closer to the shadow, her heart hammering against her ribs. As she approached, she realized it was merely a trick of the light—shadows cast by the curtains dancing in the afternoon breeze. She exhaled shakily, trying to calm her racing pulse. "Mom?" she called out again, louder this time. "Are you home?" A sudden movement from the kitchen doorway made Scarlett jump and let out a piercing scream. Her mother stood there, looking startled by her daughter's reaction. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" her mom asked, concern etched across her tired features. She wiped her hands on a dishcloth, dark circles prominent beneath her usually bright eyes. Scarlett pressed a hand to her chest, willing her heartbeat to slow. "Nothing. Just... my nerves, I guess. You scared me." She studied her mother carefully. "What were you doing? I called out when I came in." Her mother's brow furrowed slightly, a distant look clouding her eyes. "I honestly can't remember," she admitted, rubbing he
Lucien had noticed something strange about Claire, but when Scarlett mentioned it earlier, he had brushed it off. After all, what did Claire's odd behavior have to do with him? His focus was on protecting Scarlett from the original vampires, his mind constantly working through potential plans.But when he'd brushed past Claire in the cafeteria on his way to join Scarlett and her friends, something caught his attention. A scent. Faint but unmistakable—evidence of lingering dream powers mingled with the distinct scent of a vampire. And the only vampire with dream powers besides himself was his elder brother, Ezra.The vampire scent was so faint it was almost nonexistent, but Lucien's senses were too sharp to miss it. That's why he had told Scarlett to go home without him. He needed to investigate without putting her at risk.Was Ezra here? The thought seemed impossible. Ezra would never leave his post to venture into the human world. The vampire council—King Arthur himself—had given the
Scarlett sighed. "It's Lucien, isn't it?" she asked without turning around. They nodded, smirking knowingly. Before she could turn to face him, she felt a soft pressure against her cheek—Lucien's lips, brushing lightly against her skin in a brief but unmistakable kiss. "Why are you denying me, Scarlett?" he asked, his voice pitched low and teasing. He placed a hand over his heart in mock pain. "You're breaking my heart. Are you saying our kisses meant nothing to you?" The girls erupted into poorly suppressed giggles as Scarlett turned to face him, her cheeks burning. She gave him a pointed look, silently cursing him and begging him to stop in equal measure. Lucien, of course, ignored her silent plea entirely. His gray eyes twinkled with mischief as he slid into the seat beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched. "I'm wounded," he continued, draping an arm casually around her shoulders. "Truly wounded." "I hate you," Scarlett muttered under her breath, but ther