It wasn't an ordinary afternoon.
Not because of the weather, nor the city—
but because of what had just happened.
Liam still felt his heart racing after discovering that his brakes had been sabotaged. A shadow of disbelief clung to him, heavy and cold.
"Who would do this? Why now?" he wondered, as an unfamiliar sense of vulnerability crawled up his spine.
He wasn't used to danger—not real danger—and even less to relying on someone else to survive. Fear was new to him, but not paralyzing. It sharpened his senses, made him alert.
And Alessia… she watched him as though she'd just dragged him back from death itself.
Her skin still burned faintly from walking beneath the sun, yet her smile carried a sweetness that clashed with the wild pulse inside her veins.
Her breathing was calm, but her thoughts were a tempest.
Part of her wanted to hold him and never let go.
Another, older part—the ancient, savage one—wanted to sink her fangs into his throat and drink his essence in tribute to the life she had just saved.
Liam hung up the phone after calling the tow truck, sighing as he looked at his car, his frustration simmering beneath exhaustion.
"Well… I guess I'm not going anywhere tonight."
Alessia, her eyes still glistening from fear, slid a hand down his arm, her tone carrying a mischievous spark—a flash of sunlight among shadows.
"Then let's disappear for a while. Rent a couple of bikes. Just you and me. Nothing else matters right now."
He stared at her for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden suggestion—but there was something in her eyes that both anchored and freed him.
Without thinking twice, he nodded.
Minutes later, they were pedaling through the downtown bike lanes.
The sun had vanished completely, and the streetlights were blooming one by one, washing the city in amber and soft shadow.
They passed parks, tree-lined avenues, and bridges where the river shimmered with trembling silver light.
The city—so often hostile—became their accomplice.
Each shared laugh between turns and stops was a fleeting note carried by the wind.
For the first time in centuries, Alessia allowed herself to laugh without fear.
When they stopped, it was in front of a small, quiet restaurant with fogged windows and a warm glow inside.
They sat by the window, hidden from the world, watching life pass by outside.
The gentle light inside caressed their faces, isolating them in their own universe.
"How do you feel?" Alessia asked, toying with the rim of her wine glass—though she had no intention of drinking. Her gaze lingered on Liam's gestures with almost devotional curiosity.
He leaned forward, exhaling. His eyes were tired, but the flame within them refused to die.
"Frustrated. Angry. Empty," he admitted. "I gave everything for that job—it's not the promotion that hurts, it's… feeling worthless. Today felt like being slapped in the face, like nothing I did mattered."
Alessia listened silently.
But inside her, something darker stirred.
Anger rose like a tide, mixed with a hunger that was distinctly hers.
She closed her eyes for a second, pressing her fingers lightly against the table. In that instant, her mind reached outward—into the thoughts of his arrogant boss and the woman who had replaced him.
Corruption. Lust. Bribes.
Their minds stank of it. The images came sharp and filthy: money soaked in desire, whispered deals, bodies traded like currency.
A visceral disgust burned through her. For a heartbeat, she imagined their veins slit open, warm blood spiraling like ribbons in the dark. The thirst was real—but more real was her vow never to cross that line before Liam.
The injustice howled inside her, but she inhaled deeply, grounding herself.
She looked at him.
"To love is also to control," she reminded herself.
Tonight, she would not be a beast. Not in front of him. Not while her humanity still breathed.
After dinner, they walked slowly through one of the quieter streets.
The air was mild and fragrant, and the stars shyly peered through the rooftops.
Their silence was comfortable, almost sacred. Every shared step felt like a promise.
"I need to get away for a few days," Liam said finally, breaking the quiet. "What if we escaped the city? Just you and me… nothing else."
Alessia froze.
The offer was tempting—too tempting. But the memory of the Volkov clan's chaos, the blood, the war looming on Vancouver's horizon, surged through her. She knew the storm was coming.
And Liam was the fragile light at its center.
Still, the thought of a few days away—with him, far from the noise, the duty, the past—tempted her beyond reason.
It reminded her of something she had almost forgotten: the illusion of a possible life.
"If you really want to spend more time with me…" she said, letting a playful smile curve her lips, "then ask me properly."
He raised a brow, amused.
"Ask what?"
She didn't answer. She just arched one brow and let her gaze fall to his lips.
No more words were needed. The invitation was clear—a door he'd have to choose to cross.
They reached a small plaza, quiet but alive with the faint echo of a street musician's song.
The air smelled of wet wood and fallen leaves.
Alessia leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes, letting her breath match his.
Liam's heart beat faster. He wrapped his arms around her, cupping her face with trembling care.
She opened her eyes just once—long enough for him to see something eternal there, the awareness that this moment was the beginning of something irreversible.
Then he kissed her.
Time stopped.
Their lips met in a slow, deep silence.
That kiss held questions and answers, fire and calm, desire and trembling.
Alessia surrendered—until the visions came.
A wedding beneath flowering trees.
A house in the countryside.
A little girl running toward them, calling "Mom! Dad!" her laughter filling the air.
Then—darkness. Screams. War.
Vampires against humans. Blood on the walls. Fire consuming cities.
Desire fused with instinct.
Heat climbed her neck; her pulse surged unnaturally.
Her fists clenched, nails cutting her palms.
Her jaw tightened, and without meaning to, she bit Liam's lower lip—lightly, to stop what was rising inside her.
She stepped back.
Just a few inches—but it felt like the difference between salvation and damnation.
Her body wanted one thing. Her soul fought for another.
Her fangs ached to emerge; his blood sang to her like a sacred hymn.
Not him. Not now, she told herself.
He made her human—even if only for a moment. And resisting, she realized, was also a form of love.
Liam, still dizzy from the kiss, smiled softly.
"I've never felt something so simple… and yet so strong," he murmured—unaware that his words were the sweetest, deadliest blade for her heart.
He couldn't see the tremor in her hands, the shadow she wrestled to cage.
The echo of their kiss pulsed between them like a thread—binding, fragile, eternal.
"To love him is to crave him… and to crave him is to want to devour him. How long can I resist?" she wondered, feeling the fire inside her burn not entirely from love—but from hunger.
A creature stirred beneath her skin—an ancient beast, awakened by tenderness.
The flame grew in her belly, consuming her restraint, begging to be freed.
But she still fought. She still believed she could love without destroying.
And in that moment, she understood—
every touch would be a battle,
every kiss, a test,
and yet—
she knew she would never run from that war.