As Galina spoke, the vampire materialized before me with a movement so subtle it was almost imperceptible. Her hand, fingers splayed like predatory claws, hovered over my throat, and a sweet, almost passionate smile curved her lips. It felt as though she was poised to tear me open, to drink not just my blood—pure and pale as winter snow—but every memory, every fragment of my life. Overwhelmed by terror, I squeezed my eyes shut and screamed—but no strike came. Gathering every ounce of courage, I forced my eyes open again, each movement cautious. Was Galina simply toying with me, savoring my fear before delivering the final blow?
"I could kill you right now," she said, her fangs glinting, her gaze unflinching, "savor every drop of life that flows so hastily through such a young body. You cannot imagine the sweetness of revenge after endless days of captivity and knowing who deserves the blame." Her voice, though calm, carried the weight of menace. "But I won't. For my son."
Galina's eyes softened as they fell on Nik, her smile now gentle, brimming with love and care. The swiftness of her emotional swings made her actions impossible to predict, her very presence a freeze that gripped my body. Only when she deliberately stepped aside did the paralysis release me.
"Could you leave us for a moment?" Nik's mother demanded, her voice leaving no room for refusal.
"Leave?" Galina sneered. "Like in the forest, when you decided you could handle everything alone—and the girl ended up gone?"
Nik said nothing, and I could only guess at her meaning. Fear ebbed, replaced by a tidal wave of anger, raw and unrefined. Something primal stirred deep within me—a nascent, almost animal instinct whispering that the vampires around me were threats to be ended, now, before they could strike again. It was the desperate hope of someone cornered, reaching for the last shred of control, the last chance to survive, even as the body revealed hidden strengths it had long forgotten. Yet one truth was undeniable: hope of escape was gone.
Karimov's gaze met his mother's, silent and probing, as though an invisible duel of wills passed between them. Eventually, Galina's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile, and she melted into the thick forest, leaving us behind. Relief tried to rise within me, but I smothered it. Nothing was over.
"Listen," Nik said, his hand finding mine. The familiar warmth of his touch stirred long-dormant strings of the heart, recalling past love and tenderness. "She won't go far, and I can't just tell you to run."
Karimov searched my eyes, seeking something solid to cling to. The sight of his familiar face shattered the walls I'd built, the emotions I had locked away—love, fear, longing—bursting free, leaving me nearly defenseless.
"But there's a way out," Nik continued, his thumb brushing mine in a gentle, warming rhythm. "My mother is willing to compromise, and I think it will suit you." He paused, letting the words sink in. My mind was a battlefield, part of me wanting to flee, part craving the comfort of his embrace, but reason reminded me of my father, and the absurdity of giving in.
"Speak. If it can save Kostya…" I began.
"Galina won't harm your father," Nik reassured me. "That would serve no purpose. Death is simple to her—a release. But she wants to hurt Konstantin by harming you, Asya. I won't let that happen." His hands moved to frame my face, as if his touch could lend his words more truth. "Do you hear me? I won't allow it. You matter to me. I… I love you, and that won't change. But she's my mother. I know her, more than you think. She isn't all darkness; there's goodness in her. But she has been wounded deeply, and until she exacts her revenge, peace may never touch her heart. Sooner or later, the vampire within her will surface, and reason will not stop her rage. She will strike—whether she intends to harm me or not. Do you understand?"
"That everything is hopeless," I whispered.
"Not entirely," he corrected, a shadow of hope flickering across his face. "Your death would hurt Konstantin, yes, but there is another way to protect you and still inflict pain where it matters."
He didn't say it outright, letting me draw the conclusion. My pulse raced as I realized his meaning.
"You want to turn me," I said, stepping back, freeing my face from his hands.
"Yes," he admitted, closing the gap immediately, gripping my hand. "It's the only way. She won't let you leave alive. Imagine—no fear of death, no worry about harming those you love because your life becomes… endless."
"How do you know my fears?" I asked, but he held me firmly.
"Tatiana told me everything. She heard it from Dasha." His gaze was intense, desperate to connect. "I just wanted to understand why you ended things so abruptly… but if you agree now, all misunderstandings vanish. You'll have everything you dreamed of—and more."
The words wrapped around me like a spell. I pictured it all: a future unburdened by fear, a life where laughter and light replaced dread. Nik's voice echoed in my mind, and I ran through sunlit forests, free and young. Kostya waited at the edge, alive, smiling, arms open. I would run to him, embrace him, breathe in the familiar scent of cologne, a scent I had clung to for years.
"All of this can be yours," Nik murmured, and I nodded, caught in the dream.
Then a sharp sting pierced my neck. The silver light of the moon cut across my vision, and the world blurred. Sleep dragged me into its depths, visions of peace and joy colliding with the reality of pain.
I never imagined dying like this. Danger had stalked me for months, but now the darkness had finally reached me. I lay on the cold winter ground, staring into the grinning face of my killer. Blood, once mine, streaked the corners of his mouth. He wiped it away with satisfaction and reached for me.
"Try it," he whispered.
Dying for someone you love isn't the worst fate. Regret flickered briefly, but as I met his glowing blue eyes, it seemed inconsequential. Obediently, I touched my tongue to the drop of blood. Salt and iron. Agony surged through me, consuming every cell. Pain tore through me like wildfire, a thousand shades of torment refusing to merge. Movies had lied: death wasn't swift, it was endless, devouring.
Amid the chaos, consciousness clawed its way back. The forest appeared again, and Galina's manic grin hovered over me. She reached, but a sudden force struck her down. The last sensation before darkness claimed me was the raw scent of wet fur and musk.