---
Elena sat quietly on the edge of her bed, the candle beside her flickering with a weak flame. Her hands trembled slightly as she reread Liam's letter, her heart thudding against her ribcage. Meet me on the other side of the manor. I'll explain everything.
She clutched the letter to her chest, eyes scanning the darkened room. Questions swirled inside her like a storm—how had he even found her? Why now? And what was he trying to tell her? That red-eyed man… Darius. Was he really as dangerous as Liam warned?
I have to meet him again. No matter the cost. She needed answers, and Liam was the only one willing to give them.
Eventually, exhaustion took over her restless thoughts. She curled into the covers, her eyes fluttering shut, though unease weighed heavy on her chest.
That night, a dream crept into her sleep like a shadow.
She stood barefoot in a field of dying flowers, the sky above an endless swirl of dark clouds. A child's laughter echoed, distant but familiar. She turned, heart racing, as the laughter warped into screams. Crimson spilled across the sky like ink. A man with glowing red eyes stood at the edge of the dream, arm outstretched—but the moment she tried to move, the ground cracked beneath her.
"Elena…"
She jerked awake, her breaths shallow and rapid. The room was cloaked in darkness. The candle had long burned out. Her sheets clung to her skin with sweat. She blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream, but the dread lingered.
There was no going back to sleep.
Rising from the bed, she wrapped herself in a shawl and stepped into the cold corridor, taking one of the fresh candles from the stand outside her room. The flame illuminated the stone halls just enough to guide her feet. The manor was silent, eerily so. No guards. No servants. Just her, the cold, and the sound of the candle crackling softly in the still air.
She wandered without purpose, letting her thoughts drift. That was when she saw him—an older man holding a brass lamp, the warm glow lighting his calm face.
"You shouldn't be up at this hour, miss," he said, voice kind but firm.
She flinched slightly. "I couldn't sleep."
The man gave her a gentle nod. "Lord Darius is away on council matters. He wouldn't want you wandering these halls at night. Not with the kind of things that lurk in the dark." His words, though calmly spoken, sent a shiver down her spine.
He stepped forward. "Come. I'll take you back to your room."
She hesitated before falling in step beside him. "Do you… work here?" she asked softly. "I don't think I've seen you before."
"As a matter of fact, I do," he replied with a smile. "I've served the Dravens for nearly twenty decades now. My name is Lucien, house steward."
"Two decades?" she echoed, blinking in surprise.
"Not two, my dear. Twenty. But we don't age quite like your kind," he added with a small, knowing look. "The manor is ancient. And so are its keepers."
Elena swallowed hard, uncertain if he meant himself or others. "Can I ask you something?"
"As you please."
She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Do you know why… Lord Darius chose me? Of all people?"
Lucien slowed his steps, eyes flickering to her. "I'm afraid that's a question only he can answer." He smiled again, this time more distantly. "But everything he does is for a reason."
They reached her door. He raised his lamp, casting a golden glow across her face.
"Thank you," she said softly. "For walking me back."
"Anytime, my dear. Now get some rest. You'll need it." His voice held a strange gravity, like he knew more than he was letting on.
She offered a faint smile and slipped back into her room, the door closing gently behind her.
Only when she was alone again did she let the questions rise once more.
What was Darius hiding?
And why did everyone around her seem to know something she didn't
Elena leaned her back against the door, her eyes scanning the dim space lit only by the fading embers of the candle she carried. Her thoughts swirled—Liam's letter, the dream, the whispers that seemed to curl in the corners of her mind like smoke. None of it made sense, and yet, deep inside, something told her it was only the beginning.
She walked over to the window, pulling the heavy curtain aside. The night outside was still, cloaked in silver mist. The moon hung low over the horizon, casting long shadows across the garden path below. The same path she had walked just days ago... when her life had begun to change.
Her hand pressed against the cold glass, breath fogging the window slightly. Where are you now, Liam? she thought. Why does it feel like everyone knows something I don't?
The candle beside her flickered violently before settling again, as if the shadows themselves responded to her unease. A chill ran through her bones, and not just from the cold.
"I'll meet you tomorrow," she whispered into the dark. "No matter what."
And with that promise hanging in the air, she turned back toward her bed, her eyes drifting one last time to the misty garden beyond.
She didn't know what tomorrow would bring—but sleep, at last, took her in its uncertain arms.
---
The council chamber was dimly lit by torches, their flames flickering against the ancient stone walls. A long obsidian table stretched before Darius, surrounded by the clan's highest-ranking immortals, each cloaked in shadow and authority. The air was thick with tension as they discussed recent disturbances along the borders—rogue vampires spotted near human settlements, strange disappearances, whispers of unrest.
"They grow bolder," Lord Alric muttered, tapping his clawed fingers on the table. "The old laws no longer keep them in check."
"We've kept the balance for centuries," another elder snapped. "This is no time to lose control."
Darius remained silent, seated at the head of the table, one gloved hand resting against his chin. His crimson eyes gleamed faintly beneath the hood of his black mantle. Only when the voices quieted did he speak.
"Send a unit to patrol the outer regions," he commanded. "Reinforce the bloodline borders. And if any rogue dares to cross into the human domain, execute them. Publicly."
A ripple of murmurs followed, but none challenged him. When Darius stood, the others rose with him.
"This meeting is adjourned."
He turned and walked out, his cape brushing against the cold floor. But as the heavy chamber doors closed behind him, his mind was no longer on politics or border disputes.
It was on Elena.
Had she managed to sleep without him there? Was she still haunted by dreams she didn't yet understand? Or worse—had she done something reckless in his absence?
By morning, he had made his decision. He would return to the manor at once.
---
The next morning, soft fog blanketed the manor grounds. Elena stood near the hidden exit Liam had shown her, her cloak tight around her body, breath visible in the cold air. The same tree. The same path. But no Liam.
She waited.
And waited.
Her heart ached with hope and doubt. Maybe he'd been caught. Maybe he had lied. Maybe he had never planned
she moved over to the far end of the garden, near the cracked statue and the overgrown rose bushes. It was quiet—too quiet. Liam wasn't there.
She paced the same path they had walked just yesterday, searching the shadows, scanning for any sign of movement. Minutes stretched into an hour. Still, nothing.
Where is he? she wondered, her heart aching with disappointment and fear. Did something happen?
Eventually, she returned to her room, but her thoughts refused to rest. She stared out the window as the sky darkened, her fingers brushing the edge of the second letter he had left. She remembered his words, the panic in his voice, and the warning in his eyes.
You have to escape… or they'll come for you.
She pressed her palm to her chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of her heart. Could she trust anyone here? Darius had treated her with a strange kind of care, but there was always something lurking beneath it—something he wasn't telling her.
Can I trust anyone in this place? she thought.
Darius had been kind in strange ways, protective in moments—but he also terrified her. The way his eyes turned red when angry. The way the air seemed to still around him.
Is this a cage made of silk? she wondered.
And then, there was the dream.
She replayed it over and over in her mind. The child's laughter. The red-eyed man. The crack in the earth. Her name whispered like a warning.
Was it just a nightmare? Or something more?
---
Night fell.
The manor buzzed with anticipation. The maids lined the entrance as the sound of hooves echoed beyond the gates. When Darius stepped down from the carriage, they hurried to remove his coat, bowing low.
He offered no words.
Instead, he moved swiftly toward his study, where a decanter of blood wine awaited him. He poured a glass and took a slow sip before settling into the tall chair by the fire.
Moments later, the door creaked open.
He didn't need to look.
"How is she?" he asked, swirling the wine.
Lucien stepped in, carrying his usual calm demeanor and a lantern.
"She's… curious," the steward said with a faint smile. "Restless. She's been having trouble sleeping—likely the dreams are returning."
Darius's gaze flickered to the flames. "Visions."
"Indeed."
A pause.
"She's also been sneaking out," Lucien added.
Darius arched a brow.
"To see a boy. Goes by the name Liam. The blacksmith's son. They were romantically involved before she was sold."
A sharp glint flashed in Darius's eyes, though his voice remained eerily calm. "Is that so?"
"It appears he's been feeding her information. Encouraging her to flee."
Darius smirked coldly. "I've only been gone two days and she's already causing trouble."
He rose slowly, his expression unreadable.
"And what have you done with the boy?"
"He's been secured. In the dungeon. Other side of the manor. the eastern dungeon. I thought it best you decide what to do with him."
Darius's smile deepened—sharp and deadly.
"Good. This should be… interesting."
He brushed a fingertip along the edge of his fang with a slow sweep of his tongue, the firelight casting a flicker of red across his eyes.
watching the moonlight ripple against the trees. Soon, he thought. She'll come to understand why she was chosen. And then… there will be no escape.