The cold wind howled through the open diner door as Elena stood frozen, staring into Dorian's eyes. The world behind her—Miles, Vivienne, the shattering diner—blurred into silence. All she could hear was the thud of her heart and the echo of Dorian's voice in her mind:
You were always meant for me.
And somehow, terrifyingly… she believed him.
He stepped closer, slow and careful, as if afraid she'd vanish. "You feel it, don't you?" he said softly. "That pull. That bond. It's been in you since the moment you were born. I've waited lifetimes for you."
Elena's lips parted, breath catching. "Why me?"
Dorian reached out, brushing his fingers just barely over hers. A jolt—like lightning—rushed up her arm. Not pain. Something older. Something familiar.
"You're not just the last of your bloodline," he said. "You are mine. You were made for me, just as I was made for you."
Behind them, Miles exploded forward.
"She's not yours!" he roared, his hand igniting with blue fire. "You don't get to choose for her!"
In a blur, he placed himself between Elena and Dorian, shielding her with his body.
"Miles—" Elena started, but his eyes were locked on Dorian, glowing with fury.
"I don't care what ancient bond you think you have," Miles growled. "Elena is free. And I will burn this world to keep her that way."
Dorian didn't flinch. But something in his jaw tightened. "You think you're protecting her? You think this is love?" He laughed—low, dangerous. "You don't even know what she is."
"I know enough," Miles snapped. "I know she's stronger than both of us. And she deserves more than to be chained to a monster."
Dorian's gaze slid back to Elena. "Tell him, Elena. Tell him what you felt. You can lie to him if you want. But not to yourself."
Elena's mind was spinning. The bond she felt with Dorian—she couldn't deny it. But Miles… Miles had been by her side through every nightmare. He knew her, protected her. He would die for her.
So would Dorian.
Two forces, light and shadow, and she was the center of the storm.
Suddenly, a symbol burned on her wrist—crimson and glowing. She gasped, stumbling backward. The mark pulsed like a heartbeat.
Vivienne's voice rang out from behind them. "It's begun."
Dorian's eyes widened with awe. "The Pact. The bond is waking."
Miles cursed under his breath. "She's shifting. The blood's reacting."
"What's happening to me?" Elena cried, clutching her wrist.
"You're choosing," Vivienne said with a cruel smile. "Whether you mean to or not."
Elena dropped to her knees as power surged through her veins—dark, wild, and ancient. A storm roared inside her. Visions flickered behind her eyes: a ruined temple, a burning sky, Dorian's hand in hers, Miles screaming her name across a battlefield.
And then—
A whisper, not her own, deep inside her mind:
You are his. You always were.
Elena looked up, breathing hard. Her eyes met Dorian's—and for a moment, she didn't see the Hollow Man.
She saw someone broken. Waiting.
Someone who loved her.
But Miles was there too, his hand reaching down to her, desperate, his voice trembling. "Elena. Come with me. You don't have to choose this."
Torn between two truths, Elena stood, her pulse echoing like war drums.
And then, she spoke—words trembling on the edge of fate.
"I don't know what I am. But I'll find out. And I'll choose myself—not a destiny written in blood."
But as she turned to walk into the storm outside, both men followed.
Because neither Dorian nor Miles would let her go without a fight.