Chapter 15

Chapter 15

He turned too quickly, almost aggressively.

"Yes," he replied, controlled.

"Is everything all right?"

Vlad nodded with a faint, practiced smile.

"Just… the weight of the farewell."

An elegant lie. The truth was darker.

He needed to leave. Prolonged proximity was a risk. For her. For everyone.

Vlad cast one last look toward Elena. She was still watching him. When their gazes met again, he felt the final blow: she shuddered.

Confirmed. She reacted to him even without remembering.

Vlad turned his back. As he walked away, he swore inwardly:

He could resist his instinct at that funeral.

But he didn’t know how much longer he would be able to resist her.

He remained outside for a few minutes, beneath the shadow of the tall cemetery trees, trying to calm the turmoil inside him.

Elena watched him from a distance. Something about his posture stirred a strange feeling in her, something that felt so familiar. As if she had seen that man like that before… somewhere else. But… where?

That was when she appeared.

The woman was tall and elegant, with an almost unreal beauty. Her black hair was flawless, and the black dress shaped her body perfectly. As she approached Vlad, she raised her hand and touched his face intimately, her fingers gliding affectionately over his freshly shaved beard.

Elena’s chest tightened. Who is she?

Vlad closed his eyes for a second as he felt the touch.

"Vlad, dear. I know how you feel about the young body…" she smiled sideways, "but we must continue with this farce."

He opened his eyes, meeting hers.

"I know, Valkiria."

Valkiria tilted her head slightly, following her brother’s gaze… to Elena. A slow, assessing smile appeared on her lips.

"I saw her. I thought she was perfect." Her light eyes gleamed with malice. "You have good taste, brother."

Vlad tightened his jaw.

"Enough."

Valkiria let out a low laugh.

"Oh… so it’s more serious than I imagined." She looked back at Elena from afar, like a curious predator. "She still doesn’t remember, does she?"

"No," Vlad answered curtly. "And she won’t remember. Not because of you."

Valkiria raised her eyebrows, amused.

"Always so protective when something truly matters."

On the other side, Elena felt a shiver run down her spine without knowing why. The way that woman looked at her wasn’t hostile… it was curious.

Vlad stepped to the side, breaking the eye contact between them.

"Let’s go inside," he said to his sister.

Valkiria sighed, satisfied.

"As you wish."

She left. Vlad stayed there a moment longer, fighting the urge to look at Elena again. When he finally turned, she was no longer in the same place.

After the funeral, Vlad remained motionless beside the coffin, the impeccable posture of a grieving son. His face was far too serene for someone who had just “lost” his father.

Whatever was meant to happen between him and Elena would happen at the right time.

Valkiria passed by him, pretending to wipe away a nonexistent tear with a delicate handkerchief. Before leaving, she cast him one last look.

The place slowly emptied. Murmurs, footsteps, quick embraces. Until silence took over.

Everyone had left.

Everyone… except her.

Vlad felt it before he saw her. The soft perfume, absurdly familiar to him. The blood running beneath her skin.

He took a deep breath and turned around.

Elena was only a few steps away, her gaze fixed on the coffin. There was sadness there, and something deeper, something that tightened his chest in an uncomfortable way.

"Was my father important to you?" Vlad asked softly.

She slowly raised her eyes to meet his. They were moist, but no tear fell.

"He was…" she answered sincerely. "He gave me an opportunity when I needed it most. He was always respectful and kind. I admired him very much."

Vlad nodded slowly. For a moment, the mask almost slipped.

"He would be happy to hear that," he finally said.

She looked away first, feeling strangely exposed under his dark, attentive gaze.

"I… I didn’t want to intrude," she said, taking a step back. "I just thought I should come."

"You did well to come. Thank you."

Her eyes met his again for a brief second. Something passed between them.

She nodded silently and finally walked away.

Vlad followed her with his eyes only as far as he allowed himself.

When he was alone again, he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. As soon as he was completely alone, the air around him changed.

Vlad felt it. There was something there. A presence watching him. His muscles tensed.

His canines slid out. His eyes, once dark and human, ignited into a deep, predatory red. He slowly turned his face, senses on full alert, scenting the danger approaching without a sound.

"Show yourself…" he murmured, threateningly.

Silence.

Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the presence vanished. Like mist, the weight in the air disappeared.

Vlad clenched his fists.

The canines slowly retracted. The red in his eyes faded, returning them to their deep black.

"Coward…" he whispered to the void.

He cast one last look around, aware that he had not been alone. Someone had been watching him. Someone who knew his true nature.

Vlad turned and walked through the cemetery with slow steps. His presence seemed to throw the world around him out of alignment.

As he moved between the graves, the air subtly grew colder. A candle left on a tombstone went out by itself, releasing a thin thread of smoke that spiraled upward before vanishing.

A crow perched on a stone cross suddenly spread its wings and cawed loudly. Further ahead, flowers withered. He passed through it all without even looking.

His footsteps echoed over the gravel, and at a certain point he felt something more: the distant whisper of souls that had not yet moved on.

"Rest," he murmured without emotion. "I didn’t come for you."

None of it bothered him. He had walked through battlefields, burning cities, fallen empires. A cemetery was just another place where death slept, and death had always been an old acquaintance of his.

When he reached the iron gate, he stopped for a moment and looked back. The presence was not there now… but it would return.

One corner of his mouth lifted in a cold smile.

"Come prepared," he said to the nothingness.

Then he crossed the gate and headed toward the car where the driver was waiting for him.