The moon, full and merciless, cast its cold light over Saint Laurentius Academy. The night was unusually still, almost as though the entire school held its breath. No birds sang, and no wind howled through the ancient trees surrounding the grounds. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, every shadow stretching longer and darker than usual.
Alexandrov stood by the window of his room, his piercing green-blue eyes scanning the moonlit grounds below. A presence was stirring in the air. He could feel it—the hum, the pull, the undeniable sense that something had shifted. His senses were finely attuned to the rhythms of the night, and tonight, the rhythm was off. Something was wrong. Something was different.
The scent lingered in the air—a perfume mixed with the sweetness of lavender, the faintest trace of something ethereal. It was a scent he had caught once before, a few days ago, and it had haunted him since.
Amalia.
Her name reverberated in his mind, though he had not spoken it aloud. He hadn't even met her yet, but she was already embedded in his thoughts like a splinter lodged deep beneath his skin. He didn't understand it. The way his heart seemed to race in her presence, the way his blood felt as if it were boiling, all for someone he barely knew.
But there was no denying it.
He had found her. Or, rather, she had found him.
The unsettling energy in the air grew stronger, and a deep, guttural hunger clawed at him from within. His stomach tightened, his fangs aching to descend. But it wasn't hunger for blood. It was a far darker, far more insidious hunger—one that came with the discovery of something he had long since given up on. The possibility of love. A bond. A connection that ran deeper than the thirst for blood.
Alexandrov closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to steady the wild pulse of his heart. His immortal soul, one that had been through centuries of turmoil, had never known peace. But now, it seemed as though the very essence of his being was being pulled toward this girl, this enigma who had entered his life like a storm.
Her scent, the way her heart seemed to beat in rhythm with his, the way the air shifted when she was near—all of it pointed to something far beyond mere attraction. This was destiny. This was fate weaving its threads around him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
He had been avoiding her, keeping his distance since that first encounter. But tonight, something inside him snapped. The hunger was unbearable now, a gnawing, insistent ache that would not be ignored.
With a swift movement, Alexandrov turned from the window and strode toward the door. He would find her. He would know what this pull was. And he would not walk away from it, not this time.
Amalia stood in front of her mirror, staring at her reflection. The moonlight filtered through her window, casting soft shadows across her pale face. She had been restless all evening, a strange sensation of being watched creeping over her like a second skin. She couldn't shake the feeling that something—or someone—was calling to her.
Her heart fluttered in her chest, a rhythmic pulsing that seemed to echo in the silence of her room. It was almost as if her heartbeat was not entirely her own, as if it were in sync with something else, something… far older.
Her hand went instinctively to her chest, brushing over the pendant she always wore—the silver locket that had been passed down through generations. The locket that now felt as if it had a life of its own, vibrating softly against her skin.
A knock on the door startled her. She hesitated for a moment before crossing the room and opening it.
Standing in the doorway was the last person she expected to see—Alexandrov Limonhus. His green-blue eyes met hers, intense and unwavering, as though he could see straight through her.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was thick with unspoken words, and Amalia could feel her pulse quicken, a strange warmth spreading through her veins. She didn't understand it. She had barely spoken to him before, yet every time their eyes met, her heart seemed to race uncontrollably.
"Amalia," Alexandrov said, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down her spine. "I've been looking for you."
"Why?" Her voice came out barely above a whisper, unsure whether she truly wanted to know the answer.
He stepped closer, his presence engulfing her in a way that made her breath catch. "Because I can't stay away. I can't ignore what's happening between us."
Amalia's mind spun, her thoughts a chaotic blur. She wanted to pull away, to shut the door and retreat into the safety of her room. But her body betrayed her, and she found herself standing there, frozen, her heart pounding in her chest.
"What's happening?" she managed to ask, though her voice trembled with a mix of fear and curiosity.
Alexandrov's eyes softened slightly, though the intensity of his gaze never wavered. "Something… impossible," he murmured. "Something I've never felt before. You're not like the others."
Amalia swallowed hard, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions inside her. Her mind screamed at her to run, but her body—the part of her that had been drawn to him from the moment they first met—refused to listen.
"I don't understand," she whispered.
"You will," he said, his voice a promise and a warning all at once. "But for now, all you need to know is that I need you. And I'm not going anywhere."
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and Amalia's heart lurched in her chest. She felt as though she had stepped into a world she didn't understand, a world where everything was shifting, where her very existence was being pulled into something far darker, far more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.
But she couldn't deny the way he made her feel. The magnetic pull between them was undeniable, a force that neither of them could escape.
Before she could respond, Alexandrov closed the distance between them, his lips brushing softly against her forehead in a gesture that sent an electric jolt through her body. The contact was brief but intense, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The noise of the world, the confusion in her mind—it all fell away, leaving only the two of them, standing on the precipice of something unknown.
As he pulled away, Amalia blinked, her breath shallow. "What… What are you?"
Alexandrov looked down at her, his expression unreadable. "I am something you won't understand, Amalia. Not yet."
"But you will," he added, a flicker of something in his eyes—something ancient, something immortal. "In time."
The hunger inside Alexandrov roared to life, a fire that could not be quenched by simple words or gestures. The need to be near her, to claim what fate had destined for them, was overwhelming. He could feel the pull, deep within his soul, as though his very essence was reaching out for hers.
But there was something more, something darker. He couldn't deny the predator that lived inside him, the monster that had been kept at bay for centuries. The thirst for blood, for power, for domination—it all came crashing back with a vengeance.
He took a step back, his body rigid, as though struggling to contain the beast within. "I need to go," he said, his voice tight with restraint. "Before I lose control."
Amalia's eyes widened, her confusion deepening. "Control of what?"
But Alexandrov was already turning, his form a blur in the moonlight as he moved away from her. "Of myself," he replied, his voice barely audible as he disappeared into the night.
Amalia stood there, staring after him, her mind reeling with the implications of everything that had just happened. She didn't understand. She couldn't.
But one thing was certain.
The world had changed.
And she had no choice but to follow it.