The manor was silent, but inside Iman, everything stirred.
She hadn't slept - not really. Her body had returned to bed, but her thoughts remained beneath the cedar tree, where moonlight had wrapped around them like a secret. Lucien's words echoed still: "Because you're the only one who stayed."
It wasn't a confession in the way stories told it. No declarations. No promises. Just truth - raw and trembling.
She wandered the halls now, barefoot, drawn by something she couldn't name. The candlelight flickered as passed, casting shadows that seemed to whisper.
She found him in the music room.
Lucien sat at the piano, unmoving. His fingers hovered above the keys, but no sound came. He looked like a painting - beautiful, haunted, unfinished.
"You couldn't sleep either?" She asked softly.
He didn't look up. "Not when the hunger grows."
She stepped closer. "Is it because of me?"
His silence was answer enough.
"I thought you fed on blood," she said. "But this feels... different."
Lucien finally turned. His eyes were darker than before, rimmed with silver. "It is different. You're not just blood to me. You're bond."
She swallowed. "What does that mean?"
"It means I feel you. Even when you're not near. It means your pain echoes in me. Your joy, too. It means I crave you - not just to feed, but to stay whole."
Iman's breath caught. "Is that why you've been distant?"
He nodded. "I'm afraid. Of what I'll become if I lose control. Of what you'll become if I don't."
She sat beside him, close but not touching. "Then tell me. What happens if you feed again?"
Lucien hesitated. "You'll change. Slowly. You'll see things. Hear things. Your body will resist sleep. Your dreams will bleed into memory. You'll start to feel hunger too."
Iman didn't flinch. "And if you don't feed?"
"I'll fracture."
Silence again. But it wasn't empty. It was sacred.
She reached out, her hand hovering near his. "Then let me help you."
He looked at her, eyes shimmering. "You don't know what you're offering."
"I do", she said. "I'm offering trust."
Lucien closed his eyes. "I swore I'd never feed from someone I loved."
Iman's heart thudded. "Then break the vow. Just this once."
He didn't move. Didn't speak. but the air shifted.
Lucien reached for her wrist, slowly, reverently. His fingers brushed her skin - not to claim, but to ask.
She nodded.
The bite was gentle. Barely a sting. But the moment his fangs pierced her skin, the world tilted.
She saw flashes - his memories, his grief, his joy, A woman in a crimson gown. A voice. A battlefield. A child's laughter. A scream.
And then - HER.
Not Iman, but a woman who looked just like her. Same eyes. Same voice. Laughing in Lucien's arms beneath a chandelier of stars. Then burning. Then gone.
Iman gasped, the vision fading like smoke.
Lucien pulled away, breath ragged. "You saw her."
She nodded slowly. "She looked like me."
He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
Because they both knew - whatever this bond was, it didn't begin tonight.