Other vampires whispered about him now. The Ancient One. The Cursed One. The vampire who'd loved so completely that loss had destroyed him.
They avoided him. Feared him. Not because of his power—though that remained formidable—but because of what he represented: the danger of loving too much, of binding too deeply, of forgetting that immortality meant inevitable loss.
Kieran had become a cautionary tale.
He discovered this when he attended a vampire conclave—his first social interaction in decades. The moment he entered, conversations stopped. Vampires moved away as if his grief were contagious.
Only one approached him—a young vampire, turned perhaps fifty years ago.
"Is it true?" the young vampire asked, voice hushed. "That you waited a thousand years for your mate? That you finally bonded with him, made him immortal, and then lost him anyway?"
"Yes."
"And you're still... here. Still existing. After six centuries of grief?"
Kieran looked at this young vampire—eyes still bright with the newness of immortality, still believing that eternity was a gift rather than a curse.
"I'm not existing," Kieran said quietly. "I'm haunting. There's a difference."
The young vampire stepped back, fear flickering across his features. "They say you've become a monster."
"They're right."
Because Kieran had looked in the mirror recently—really looked—and seen the truth. The vampire staring back wasn't the being Adrian had loved. This creature was hollow, cold, consumed by loss and longing. This was a monster wearing Kieran's face.
Adrian had been his humanity. His anchor to warmth, compassion, love. Without him, Kieran was just fangs and darkness and endless, aching void.
He left the conclave early, unable to bear the pitying looks, the fearful whispers. Returned to his sanctuary—no longer a home, just a mausoleum where he'd entombed himself alive.
And for the first time in six hundred years, Kieran wept. Not from sadness, but from the horrifying realization that he'd become exactly what he'd always feared: a true monster, incapable of feeling anything except pain.
Adrian wouldn't recognize him now. Wouldn't love this broken, twisted thing he'd become.
Maybe that was why Adrian's soul hadn't returned. Maybe the universe was protecting Adrian from what Kieran had become.