Elara did not sleep again.
Her body tried—she felt it, the way exhaustion tugged at her consciousness, heavy and insistent—but every time her eyes closed, the hunger clawed louder. It wasn't simple emptiness. It was directional. Pointed. As if something inside her knew exactly what it wanted and where to find it.
Her pulse refused to settle.
Each beat echoed too loudly in her ears, syncing with a rhythm beneath her skin that wasn't her own. Heat rolled through her veins in waves, receding just long enough to give her false hope before surging back stronger, sharper.
She curled on the stone slab, nails digging into her palms.
Breathe. Just breathe.
The scent returned—stronger now.
Blood.
Not hers.
Her stomach clenched violently.
"No," she whispered, pressing her face into the stone as if she could hide from it. "I don't want—"
Her body betrayed her.
Saliva flooded her mouth. Her teeth ached, gums throbbing with a pressure that made her whimper. She swallowed hard, the motion sending another spike of sensation straight down her spine.
Footsteps echoed faintly beyond the walls.
Light, unhurried.
Not Kael's.
Elara froze.
The air changed.
It grew colder, sharper, carrying a sweetness that made her head spin. Her vision blurred at the edges as the scent intensified—rich, intoxicating, threaded with something dark and old.
Blood layered with immortality.
The iron door slid open without a sound.
Elara scrambled backward on the slab, heart hammering painfully as three figures entered the cell.
They were beautiful.
Not in the raw, predatory way Kael was—but polished, deliberate, lethal in stillness. Two men and a woman, pale as moonlit marble, eyes glowing faintly red in the dim light.
Vampires.
The woman stepped forward first. Her dark hair fell in a sleek wave down her back, lips curved in an amused smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Well," she drawled, gaze dragging over Elara with open curiosity. "She's still breathing. I was beginning to think the wolves exaggerated."
Elara pressed herself against the wall, chest heaving. "Stay back."
The vampires laughed softly.
"How adorable," one of the men said. "It still thinks it has authority."
It.
The word sliced deeper than any blade.
The woman lifted a hand, silencing him. Her gaze sharpened, nostrils flaring slightly.
"Oh," she murmured. "Do you feel that?"
Elara's stomach twisted.
"Feel what?" she snapped weakly.
The woman's smile widened. "The pull."
She stepped closer.
Elara screamed.
The hunger exploded violently, ripping through her restraint like paper. Her vision tunneled, locking onto the pale pulse visible at the woman's throat. The sound of blood rushing through veins roared in her ears, drowning out everything else.
Her body moved on instinct.
She lunged.
Pain slammed into her chest as an invisible force threw her backward, pinning her flat against the wall. She cried out, gasping as pressure crushed her lungs, her feet lifting off the stone.
The male vampire with silver rings on his fingers lowered his hand slowly. "Careful," he said lazily. "She bites."
Elara struggled helplessly, nails scraping stone as her body shook violently.
The woman watched her with undisguised fascination.
"Remarkable," she said. "Half-awakened, unfed—and already responding to vampire blood."
"I'm not—" Elara choked. "I don't want—"
"That's irrelevant," the woman replied lightly. "Your body disagrees."
The pressure released abruptly. Elara collapsed to the floor, coughing violently, lungs burning.
Tears streamed down her face—furious, humiliating tears.
The third vampire, who had remained silent, stepped forward at last. He was taller than the others, his presence heavier, darker. His red eyes flicked briefly to Elara before lifting toward the shadows near the ceiling.
"She's unstable," he said. "Kael will not approve."
At the sound of his name, the air shifted.
Kael emerged from the darkness like he had always been there.
The vampires straightened immediately.
"My Lord," the woman said smoothly. "You're late."
Kael's silver eyes locked onto Elara on the floor.
For a heartbeat, something unreadable flickered across his face.
Then it vanished.
"You were instructed not to touch her," he said coldly.
The woman shrugged. "We didn't. She tried to touch us."
Kael's gaze snapped to her. "Leave."
The vampires hesitated.
"This concerns the Night Court," the woman said. "If her bloodline is what we think—"
"I said," Kael interrupted softly, power coiling beneath the words, "leave."
The air thickened.
The vampires bowed—reluctantly, resentfully—and retreated from the cell, the woman's gaze lingering on Elara with a promise that made her stomach twist.
When the door sealed shut again, silence crashed down.
Elara shook uncontrollably, curling in on herself.
Kael approached slowly.
"You felt it," he said.
She hugged her knees to her chest. "I almost—"
"Yes."
Her breath hitched. "I would've killed her."
Kael crouched in front of her, close enough that she could feel his heat.
"That is why they wanted to test you," he said. "And why I will not let them near you again."
Her head snapped up. "Why do you care?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he reached into the shadows and retrieved a small vial—dark glass, sealed with a sigil that pulsed faintly with power.
Elara recoiled. "What is that?"
"Control," Kael replied. "Or the illusion of it."
Her hands trembled. "I don't want vampire blood."
"You need it," he said bluntly. "Your body is tearing itself apart trying to reconcile what you are."
"And what am I?" she demanded.
His jaw tightened.
"A convergence," he said finally. "A relic bloodline the wolves tried to erase and the vampires tried to breed out of existence."
Her mind reeled. "That doesn't make sense."
"It doesn't have to," Kael replied. "It only has to survive."
He uncorked the vial.
The scent hit her instantly.
Rich. Dark. Tempting.
Her body surged forward before she could stop it, fingers clutching at his wrist as a sob tore from her throat.
Kael stiffened.
For a split second, their eyes locked.
Silver met shattered brown.
Something dangerous flared between them.
"Drink," he said, voice rough. "Or you will lose yourself."
Her hands shook violently as she took the vial.
"I hate you," she whispered.
"I know," Kael said.
She pressed the vial to her lips and drank.
Fire ripped through her.
She screamed as power slammed into her veins, cold and sharp and intoxicating. Her spine arched as her body convulsed, senses exploding outward.
She could hear everything.
Smell everything.
Feel him.
Kael staggered back as if struck, one hand braced against the wall.
The bond flared.
Visible.
Alive.
Elara collapsed, gasping, heart racing wildly.
When she finally lifted her head, Kael was staring at her like she was a weapon that had just armed itself.
His voice was low.
"That," he said, "should not have bound us."
Her breath stuttered. "Bound… us?"
Kael's silver eyes darkened.
"Yes," he said. "And that is a problem big enough to start a war."
Somewhere deep beneath her skin, the hunger purred—sated, for now.
Waiting.