Lucien
Regret was a dull ache. Familiar. Constant. But this morning, it pulsed differently.
I stood on the rooftop of a building across from her house, the sunrise a soft wound on the sky. Orange and gold bled into the horizon, and for once, I felt the sting of it. Not from the light—it takes centuries for the sun to truly burn us—but from something far deeper. Something shameful.
I bit her.
I told myself it was necessary. That the ritual required it. That I needed to seal the pact.
But I took too much.
And I knew the difference. I'd made a rule for myself centuries ago, never feed from a human, not directly. Never feel that close to their warmth. It was a line I drew between myself and the monster I could become.
And yet, last night… I broke it.
Why? What was it about her?
She wasn't the first human I'd seen. I've walked through cities, through generations, watched empires fall and rise again. But Mira Blake…
She wasn't just a girl with soft brown eyes and questions tucked between her ribs.
She smelled like spring. Like the very air I hadn't breathed in decades.
She looked at me without reverence or fear. Only curiosity. And maybe… maybe a little sorrow. That's what undid me.
I should've stopped.
When she whispered, "Please." When her hands grew limp. When her heartbeat changed.
But something inside me, something ancient and broken, refused.
And when she collapsed, her blood singing in my veins, I knew I had crossed a line I could never uncross.
Now, all I could do was watch her.
____________________________
Mira
The sunlight slipped through the window, cutting across her face in warm streaks. Mira blinked slowly, her body aching as though she'd run miles the night before. For a second, she forgot everything.
The cake, the music, the crash in her backyard—
And then it returned.
The blue eyes. The fangs. The cold hands.
The bite.
She sat up with a wince. Her neck throbbed faintly, not with pain, but with a strange, almost phantom pressure. Her fingers traced the area gently, and she flinched. Two puncture marks remained, barely visible but still real.
She shook her head. "Nope. Nope. That did not happen."
But it did.
Dragging herself out of bed, she headed to the mirror. Her reflection stared back, pale and haunted. Mira reached for the makeup drawer, rummaged for the concealer before giving up and opting for the high-neck dress she'd been saving for meetings.
A charcoal gray, full-sleeved number that clung to her waist and flared slightly at the knees. Modest. Professional. And more importantly, it covered the evidence.
As she dressed, her thoughts drifted.
She had always wanted to write her own novel. Being a ghostwriter for over three years had its perks, steady income, flexible hours, but it left her creatively drained. Until recently, her head had been brimming with an idea.
A vampire story.
Now, she wasn't so sure.
What do you do when fiction starts bleeding into real life?
Still, work waited. Stories didn't write themselves, and deadlines didn't care if you were bitten by a creature of the night.
She grabbed her laptop bag, tossed in her half-written manuscript, and made her way to the co-working office in the heart of the city.
The office buzzed with quiet energy. A few colleagues typed away at their desks, while others sipped coffee and muttered edits to themselves. Mira had just set her bag down when a shout rang out.
"Birthday girl!"
She turned as her small team of five approached with a cake, chocolate, her favorite candles already lit.
"We thought you weren't coming!" said Tanya, her closest coworker.
"Couldn't miss cake," Mira replied with a soft smile, though her heart wasn't in it.
They sang. She laughed at all the right parts. Took a slice. Played along.
Afterward, everyone scattered to their desks, and Mira was left with her laptop and a blank screen. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, but her mind kept drifting.
Was it real? Last night? That man Lucien?
She sipped the lukewarm coffee and looked out the window. The street below was busy. People walking. Cars honking. Life moved forward as if nothing had happened.
But as her gaze wandered, something tugged at her. A pressure in the air.
And then...
She saw him.
_______________________
Lucien
She was there, framed by the window. The same window I stood beneath. Sunlight behind her. Brows furrowed. Lips pressed together in that determined way.
I stood still, hidden behind a shadowed pillar on the opposite building. My hand curled into a fist at my side.
She looked… human.
So heartbreakingly human.
And yet, something in her had survived me. Her strength. Her will.
I told myself I came to check if she was alive. That's all.
But then she looked out.
And our eyes met.
Just a flicker. A second. But I felt it.
Recognition.
She flinched. Her lips parted.
And before she could blink again, I vanished.
I leapt across the rooftops with unnatural speed, my coat slicing through the wind. Every instinct told me to stay away. But something louder—more primal—told me I had to see her again.
To make things right.
Or maybe… to destroy whatever this strange connection was before it destroyed me.
Back in the shadows of an alley, I caught my breath.
The pull was worse today.
She shouldn't matter.
But Mira Blake wasn't just any human. I could feel it in the magic, in the silence that rang between our two worlds.
And somewhere deep within me, a fear bloomed—
That the moment I tasted her blood…
Fate marked her as mine.