"Tristan's POV"
The feeling started three nights after I walked Aurora home from the park.
It wasn't something I could see or hear, just a prickling awareness that settled at the base of my skull and wouldn't leave.
Someone was watching. Not physically, but spiritually. Magically.
Someone had turned their attention toward me, and in the supernatural world, attention was rarely a good thing.
I tried to dismiss it as paranoia. A thousand years of trauma had a way of making shadows seem darker than they were.
Every time I'd let someone close, danger had followed. Maybe my mind was just preparing for the inevitable pattern to repeat.
But the feeling persisted.
I stood in my apartment on the fortieth floor, looking out over the city lights, and felt exposed in a way I hadn't in decades.
My wards were still intact, protection spells I'd paid witches handsomely to maintain. Nothing should have been able to track me here.
Yet something had.
My phone buzzed with a text from Aurora.
"Still awake?" I can't sleep. Keep thinking about weird coffee dates with mysterious men.
I smiled despite the unease crawling through me.
"Define weird."
The kind where the guy doesn't actually drink his coffee and looks at crowds like they might attack him.
Maybe I just have high standards for coffee.
Liar. But I'll let it slide if you tell me one real thing about yourself.
I stared at the message, fingers hovering over the keyboard. One real thing.
Something that wasn't carefully constructed misdirection.
I'm scared of losing people I care about. So I don't let myself care.
Her response came quickly.
That makes sense. Losing people changes how you love. I guess I just believe that caring is still worth it, even if it scares the hell out of you sometimes.
I was still smiling when another sensation washed over me, stronger this time.
Definitely magical. Definitely intentional. Someone was scrying, using magic to search for something.
The spell brushed against my wards like fingers testing a locked door.
I set down my phone and closed my eyes, reaching for the abilities Elysia's blood had given me.
Enhanced senses that extended into the magical realm where intentions and power left traces.
The scrying spell retreated immediately, whoever cast it realizing they'd been detected.
But not before I caught a flavor of it. Witch magic. Multiple sources working together. A coven.
That wasn't good.
The next morning, I had business to handle. The kind that reminded me why most of the supernatural world had learned to leave me alone.
A vampire named Jaime had been skimming from one of my investments, thinking I wouldn't notice. Thinking that because I'd been quiet for decades, I'd gone soft.
I found him in a warehouse on the south side, surrounded by three other vampires he'd recruited as muscle. They all tensed when I walked in.
Jaime, I said pleasantly. We need to talk about the money you've been stealing.
Tristan. He tried for confident but his voice shook. I don't know what you're talking about.
Lying to me is a bad idea. I moved closer, not bothering with human speed.
One moment I was by the door, the next I was in front of him. His backup scattered.
Jaime went pale. I was going to pay it back.
Were you? I tilted my head.
Because you've been spending it on cars and apartments. That doesn't look like someone planning to make things right.
I just need more time.
You had time. I let my eyes shift, letting him see the predator beneath the mask. Now you have a choice.
Return everything you took by tomorrow night, or I take it out of you in ways you won't enjoy.
He nodded frantically. Tomorrow night. I swear.
Good. I stepped back. And Jaime? Spread the word. I'm not as forgiving as I used to be.
I left him there, shaking. It was a small display of power, nothing compared to what I was capable of, but it would serve its purpose. Remind people that Tristan wasn't someone to cross.
The supernatural community operated on reputation as much as actual power.
Let yourself be seen as weak and you became a target. Stay feared and most problems solved themselves.
But fear was a double-edged sword. It kept enemies at bay but also made you memorable. Made people watch you, notice when patterns changed.
Like the pattern of being alone for three centuries suddenly shifting.
I felt the scrying spell again that evening, more insistent. Multiple witches, definitely a coven, searching for something specific.
The spell didn't penetrate my wards but it circled them, testing for weaknesses.
They were looking for me specifically. Not randomly searching, but targeting. Someone had noticed something.
My phone rang. Calanthia's name appeared on the screen.
We need to talk, she said without preamble.
About?
About the fact that your name is being whispered in circles you don't want attention from. She paused. What did you do, Tristan?
Nothing.
That's not what I'm hearing. Word is spreading that you've changed. That you're different somehow.
I'm not.
Then why are covens suddenly interested in you again? She sighed. You've been a ghost for so long most thought you were a myth. Now suddenly people are asking questions, trying to figure out what shifted.
My stomach dropped. Who's asking?
Nyxia coven for one. They've been quiet since you massacred their ancestors, but something caught their attention. She hesitated. Have you been seeing someone?
The question was too specific, too knowing. Why?
Because that's the rumor. That the infamous Tristan, the vampire who swore off connection, is suddenly spending time with someone.
And if that's true, you need to be careful. You know what happens when your enemies think they've found leverage.
I didn't answer, my mind racing through implications. Three weeks. I'd known Aurora for three weeks, and already the supernatural world had noticed.
Tristan, Calanthia said quietly. Please tell me you're not repeating history.
I'm handling it.
That's not an answer.
It's the only one you're getting. I ended the call.
I stood there in my apartment, phone still in my hand, and felt the weight of a thousand years pressing down.
This was why I stayed alone. Why I'd vowed never to let anyone close. Because caring about someone painted a target on their back.
Aurora was in danger, and she didn't even know it yet.
Somewhere in the city, in a place warded against detection, a witch smiled as her scrying spell finally confirmed what she'd suspected.
Tristan wasn't alone anymore. The legendary vampire who'd destroyed her coven's ancestors had finally found something that could be used against him.
The Nyxia coven where witches traced down from the Shadow veil coven many centuries ago since Zhilara died.
And they had waited a very long time for revenge.