It was night.

The moonlight poured in through the high windows like silver smoke, soft and cold. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring into the dark, the air heavy with shadows.

Two months.
I had slept in this room for two months.
But tonight—it felt like someone else’s space.

Like I was trespassing on someone else’s memories.

My fingers tightened on the blanket. My arm still ached faintly from the cut I’d gotten earlier. The bruises were healing fast, faster than they should have. Maybe it was the blood Valen gave me. Maybe it was something else.

A thread in my chest tugged.

It had been happening more and more since the court—whispers in my mind, fragments of something half-remembered, half-dreamed.

But this time, I wasn’t dreaming.

The world shifted.

A sharp pull behind my eyes, and then—
Light. Color. Sound.

I wasn’t in my room anymore.

I stood in a vast marble hallway, candles flickering in sconces that lined the walls. The floor beneath me glistened like wet obsidian. My heart pounded, though it wasn’t mine—it was hers.

I could feel her.

My mother.

Younger than I’d ever imagined her. Barely older than I was now. Her breath came fast, her heels echoing as she moved nervously through the corridor.

And then she stopped.

He was there.

Valen.

But not the Valen I knew.
This one was colder. Sharper.
His hair longer, darker—his eyes utterly unreadable. He wore black from collar to boot, and yet there was something… familiar. Something that hadn’t changed.

He looked at her like he was trying to solve her.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said, voice clipped, regal, disapproving.

“I didn’t mean to get lost,” she replied—her voice. My mother’s voice. Light, uncertain, but with the kind of stubborn tilt that lived in me now. “It’s my first time at court.”

His eyes flicked over her like a blade.

“You’re human.”

She flinched, just slightly. But her chin lifted.

“I am. Is that a problem?”

He didn’t answer.

They stared at each other for a long moment. The kind of moment where something unspoken begins—sharp, fragile, and full of consequences.

And then—

His expression changed.
Just slightly.
A faint curiosity sparked behind his cold façade.

“No,” he said finally. “No problem at all.”

And with that, he turned and walked away—vanishing into the shadows.

But her heart—my heart—kept pounding long after.

I gasped, snapping upright in my bed.

The room spun. My fingers were trembling. Sweat clung to my skin even though the air was cold.

“What… was that?” I whispered, touching my face. I could still feel the hallway, the heat of her breath, the chill of his stare.

A memory.
But not mine.

Hers.

My mother’s.

Somehow, through the blood Valen gave me…
I was seeing what she saw.
What she lived.

And maybe—just maybe—I'd start to understand the secrets she died protecting.

The sun finally rose, its light a pale gold spilling across the cold marble floors. I yawned, dragging a hand through my tangled hair.

I hadn’t slept much—if at all.

Visions of my mother kept flickering behind my eyes, like echoes clinging to my skin. Her voice. Valen’s voice. That first meeting. It felt like a puzzle had been placed in my lap, but half the pieces were burned.

I stepped out of my bedroom, the cool hallway air brushing against my bare arms.

Time to search.
If there was a traitor here… I had to find something. Anything.

But I didn’t even get ten steps before I froze.

Lucien.

He stood at the far end of the corridor, like he’d been waiting. His white hair was perfectly brushed, his pale pink eyes shining with that usual unreadable calm. He looked like a statue carved from ivory—flawless and untouchable.

He smiled.

“Good morning, Lilith,” he said smoothly. “Rough night?”

His voice was kind. Too kind.
My stomach twisted—just like it always did when he smiled like that.

“I’m fine,” I muttered.

“You don’t look it.”

I said nothing. Just kept walking, forcing my legs to move. But he fell into step beside me, quiet for a moment.

Then—

“Looking for something?”

I glanced at him. His eyes were still soft, but there was something in them now.
Too focused.

Too knowing.

My heart skipped. Did he know I was investigating?

“Just… walking,” I said. Casual. Careless. Lying.

He hummed. “Strange. You only ever walk when you’re angry or curious.”

I stopped. “Do you follow me that much?”

He grinned. “Only when I’m bored.”

A chill slipped down my spine. I didn’t trust him. Not really.
But if he was the traitor— no, don’t make any conclusion

I thought

“I’d like to be alone,” I said.

He bowed slightly, like a gentleman from another century. “Of course. But be careful, Lilith.” His eyes glittered. “This mansion has secrets. Some of them are buried for a reason.”

And with that, he turned and vanished down the hallway—like smoke trailing into the shadows

The eggs on my plate had long gone cold.

I hadn’t touched them. My fork just scraped the porcelain, again and again, mind elsewhere. The room was quiet, unnervingly so—except for the faint clink of glass on wood.

Across from me, Valen sat in silence, dressed in black like always. His eyes were darker today, hooded and sharp. A wine glass rested in his hand, tilted gently toward his lips. But what filled the glass wasn’t wine. It was too thick. Too rich.

Blood.

He drank slowly, deliberately, while never once looking away from me.

I swallowed hard, meeting his gaze. “That’s not wine.”

“No,” he said. “It’s not.”

The silence stretched again. My chest ached with the tension that hadn’t left since the court incident. I still had a scar along my left arm from where his paw had sent me flying. He hadn’t spoken much since then—no soft words, no biting remarks. Just this cold quiet. Watching me like I might vanish if he blinked.

“You’re staring,” I said, finally.

He set the glass down with a soft clink. “You bled.”

“So did you.”

“That’s not the same.” His voice was low. Ragged. “I did that to you.”

I stood up, crossing the room slowly. “Valen, I told you. I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” he snapped, then caught himself. His voice dropped again. “You were hurt because I lost control.”

I stopped in front of him. He stood too, looming above me. Not threatening, just—overwhelming. His presence always was. Like standing at the edge of a cliff with the wind howling behind your back.

“You gave me your blood,” I said. “You saved my life.”

He flinched, barely perceptible. “That’s different.”

“Is it?”

His jaw clenched. “If I take from you—it binds us. It’s not just survival anymore. It’s hunger. It’s power. It's... attachment.”

“I already feel bound to you.”

He looked at me like I’d spoken in a foreign language. As though no one had ever said those words to him. Not and meant them.

“I want to give it,” I whispered.

“You don’t understand what you’re offering.”

“Then explain it to me.”

He was silent for a long moment. Then he reached out, fingers brushing my wrist. “Your heartbeat,” he murmured, “is the loudest thing in this room.” He closed his eyes. “If I lose control, I won’t stop until I’ve taken everything.”

I stepped closer. “Then don’t lose control.”

His fangs shimmered just beneath his lip, and he gave a strained breath. “Lilith…”

I raised my wrist and offered it to him. “Drink.”

He didn’t move.

Until he did.

Fangs grazed my skin. A warm exhale, a pause—a moment that stretched forever. Then a sting. Sharp, clean. My breath caught as heat shot through my body, not pain exactly, but something... more. Intimate.

He drank.

Slowly. Reverently.

His hands were in my hair now, clutching, grounding himself as if afraid he’d fall into me. My legs felt weak, but I didn’t pull away. I watched him. His eyes were closed, brow furrowed like he was praying.

Then he stopped.

He pulled back, lips stained red, his breathing ragged. He touched my cheek. “You taste like fire.”

I rested my head on his chest. “You didn’t lose control.”

“No,” he rasped. “But I wanted to.”

“And I still trust you.”

Later That Night – Court Reaction

The hall was buzzing. High vampires cloaked in deep velvet, blood-red and midnight blue, sat around the court’s circular chamber. I stood slightly behind Valen, who hadn’t said a word since we entered. But the stares… they were unbearable.

Whispers drifted like smoke:

“She smells like him now—like his blood.”
“She’s mortal. That bond is forbidden—dangerous.”
“She’s more than mortal now.”

One noble, a tall figure with copper eyes and fine silver cuffs, stepped forward. “You drank from her?”

Valen’s voice was deadly calm. “Yes.”

The court murmured, a ripple of unease spreading like wildfire.

The copper-eyed vampire scoffed. “You’ve marked her. You know what that means.”

Valen stepped forward, shadows curling around his boots. “I know exactly what it means.”

“She’s a weakness now.”

He turned toward the noble slowly. “She’s mine.”

That silenced the room.

Whispers turned to fear. A vampire like Valen didn’t bond. He didn’t drink from anyone. And now… he had.

“He’ll tear down kingdoms for her.”
“We can’t control him now.”
“It’s begun.”

Valen reached back, taking my hand in front of all of them. A blatant claim. Possessive. Defiant. His thumb brushed the bandaged part of my wrist where his fangs had been.

And then came his words, cold and clear:

“Let anyone try to take her from me… and see what becomes of them.”

The moon had begun its slow climb across the sky, casting pale silver light through the high windows of the mansion. Shadows stretched long on the floors, curling like claws around the corners of my room. I sat near the fireplace, arms tucked around my knees, trying to will my mind into silence.

A knock broke the stillness. Then the door creaked open.

Valen stepped inside without waiting for a response. His black coat hung open, his shirt half undone at the throat. He looked wild—restless. That dangerous stillness he wore before something snapped.

His crimson eyes burned like coals beneath water.

“You’ll sleep in my room tonight,” he said flatly.

I blinked. “What?”

“You’ll be sleeping in my room. In my bed.”

There was no warmth in his voice—only cold command. No softness. No asking.

My heart skipped. “Why?”

He didn’t answer right away. He stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. “There are more eyes on you than ever before,” he said, quietly. “Some hate you because you are human. Some because I’ve claimed you. And some…” He paused, voice tightening. “Some simply want to see how far they can push me before I bite.”

“And sharing your bed protects me?” I asked carefully.

His gaze flicked down to me, sharp. “It keeps you close.”

“Close enough to control?”

“Close enough to protect.”

Silence fell between us. The fire crackled.

“I’m not a thing to lock in a tower,” I whispered.

“No,” he agreed. “You’re the one thing I’ll burn the tower down for.”

That silenced me.

Valen moved closer, slow, precise. He knelt in front of me, eyes level with mine. His hand brushed my cheek, the barest touch of knuckles.

“I won’t touch you unless you ask me to,” he said, voice softer now. “But I need you where I can see you. Smell you. Hear your heartbeat when I wake. Otherwise…” He broke off, eyes flickering with something raw. “Otherwise I can’t sleep.”

A moment passed. Then another.

“…Okay,” I said quietly.

He stood and held out a hand. “Come.”

I took it.

That Night – His Room

The room was massive, dimly lit by the moon and faint candlelight. Black velvet curtains hung from tall windows. The bed was equally large—dark, silk sheets, cold to the touch.

Valen stood beside it, watching me as I hesitated near the edge.

He pulled his coat off slowly, folding it over a chair. Then his boots. His shirt. The muscles beneath his skin flexed with control—restraint—and something else entirely. Hunger maybe. Or fear.

He slipped beneath the covers, settling on one side, back half turned to me.

“Sleep,” he said simply.

I slid in slowly, the sheets cold against my skin, the tension between us thick as fog.

His back rose and fell in steady rhythm. But I knew he wasn’t asleep. Not yet.

And neither was I.

Not when his body was so close.

Not when this monster had given me his blood, protected me from death—and now asked for something far more terrifying:

Trust.

The bed was warm now, the air heavy with Valen’s scent—dark spice and something wilder beneath it, something ancient. My eyes drifted shut.

Sleep took me fast. Too fast.

But it wasn’t a normal dream.

The vision came like drowning.

First, a woman’s hand—so familiar. Pale, soft, fingers threading through strands of long silver hair. Her voice, sweet and trembling, whispered a name:
"Valen."

Then I saw them.

My mother, standing beneath a moonlit tree, the night wind catching her hair, and Valen, just as he looked now—dark, dangerous, beautiful.

She was smiling.

She chose him. Her hand cupped his face. “I love you,” she said, and his arms folded around her like armor.

But the scene shattered.

Now she was running—through a hallway drenched in shadows. Blood on her sleeve. Her eyes wild with fear.

“Don’t do this!” she cried out.

And behind her—Valen again, his eyes glowing red, fangs bared, not chasing but hurting.

She turned back one last time. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I couldn’t save you from yourself…”

Then everything went black.

I gasped. My body jolted violently.

“Lilith.”

A low voice, close. Urgent.

“Lilith—wake up.”

My arms flailed. I thrashed under the covers, trying to hold onto the images, the truth slipping through like water.

“Lilith,” Valen said again, more firm now, and suddenly his hands were on my shoulders, steadying me. “It’s a dream. Come back.”

My eyes flew open.

He was hovering over me, shirtless, eyes wide—not angry. Afraid.

I stared at him, breathless. My heart was a wild drum in my chest.

“You were calling out,” he said. “Screaming.”

I blinked rapidly. Sweat stuck my hair to my face. My entire body was shaking. I felt…torn in half.

“I saw my mother,” I whispered.

He stiffened.

“She loved you,” I added. “But she ran from you too.”

He didn’t respond at first. Just looked at me, jaw clenched, shadows dancing across his cheekbones in the candlelight.

“That was a long time ago,” he finally said, voice hollow.

“Why did she run?” I asked. “Did you—?”

“I would never have hurt her,” he snapped, sharper than before. “Not unless she asked me to.”

Silence fell. The kind of silence that screams.

I curled into myself again, trembling.

Valen didn’t touch me.

But he didn’t move away either.

“Sleep,” he said after a long time. “I’ll stay right here.”

I nodded slowly, closing my eyes—though sleep no longer felt safe.

Not with the memory of love…
And the warning of fear…
Still clinging to my skin.

I didn’t sleep again.

The vision wouldn’t leave me—her voice, her eyes, the way she looked at him.

The way she ran.

So when I heard footsteps outside my door, I didn’t pretend to be asleep. I stood, barefoot and silent, in the middle of the room, my heart already racing.

A knock. Gentle.

Then: “It’s me.”

Valen.

I opened the door.