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NatalieWe slipped into Adrian’s car in silence, the soft click of the doors closing feeling louder than it should have.I could sense the weight of his disappointment as he gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly, his jaw set in quiet frustration.He had ended the interruption quickly, whoever it was, but the damage had already been done. My mother’s call had cut the evening short, bringing an abrupt end to what was supposed to be our first real chance to just be—no past, no obligations, no shadows trailing us.I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.“Sorry about the interruption,” Adrian said gently, stealing a glance at me. His eyes softened when they met mine, but he quickly turned his focus back to the road.“It’s okay,” I murmured, though the words felt hollow. I stared out the windshield, watching the world blur by in shades of grey and gold, but my mind wasn’t in the car anymore.My mother’s voice had been steady on the phone—too steady. I knew her calm tone we
NatalieAs I stepped out of the car, the night air wrapped around me, cool and still. I closed the door gently, expecting Adrian to follow, but when I glanced back, he was still seated behind the wheel, hands resting casually, eyes following my movement with quiet curiosity.I hesitated, then leaned against the window, suddenly aware of how fast my heart was beating.“I didn’t want to seem too forward,” I began, chewing on the inside of my cheek, “but… would you like to come in? I mean, just to meet my mom.”As soon as the words left my mouth, I cringed and instinctively covered it with my hand. God, why did that sound like a proposal? My face flushed with heat, and I scrambled to undo the damage.“Not like we’re getting married or anything…” I added, forcing a laugh that came out too breathy, too nervous. My mouth opened again to explain further, maybe soften the awkwardness, but I gave up and sighed instead, defeated.Adrian let out a full, warm laugh—one of those genuine, deep ones
Natalie“So,” my mother began, folding her hands in her lap with a polite smile, “how did you two meet?”There was a hint of curiosity in her voice, carefully masked but unmistakable to me. She wasn’t just making conversation—she was searching, trying to fit the pieces together.“Cainebrielle,” I answered simply, and her smile deepened. She turned her gaze to Adrian then, clearly expecting him to fill in the blanks.“A student?” she asked lightly, but I felt her eyes slide to mine, subtle and questioning. I hesitated, caught off guard. I didn’t know how much to say.Adrian, ever composed, answered before the silence stretched too long. “A former student,” he said gently. “But now, a sponsor.”His tone was modest, but I saw the flicker in my mother’s eyes—a flash of surprise she couldn’t quite hide. She was probably doing the math in her head. He was far too young, far too striking, to be a sponsor.“I’m filling in for my father,” Adrian added smoothly, catching the shift in her expres
NatalieSomething had to have happened to make her say this—to even think about leaving Hawkshire so suddenly. My mother, for all her spontaneity, wasn’t careless. And this? This felt like more than a whim.“Is everything alright, Mom?” I asked softly, searching her face.She nodded, but the gesture was too quick, too rehearsed. She was lying. Not out of malice, but to protect me. She always did that—carried the weight quietly, so I wouldn’t have to.“You know we can’t,” I said gently, grounding the truth between us.Her eyes shimmered instantly, and she looked away. The dam behind her composure cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but I saw. I felt it.This confinement—this looming illness, this shadow of uncle Michael—was caging her spirit. My mother, who once danced barefoot in the rain, was now drowning in stillness.“I can’t sit back and let you sacrifice yourself for my sake,” she said, her voice trembling.I shook my head, tears already burning a
Natalie“Let’s give it time, Mom,” I said softly, my fingers tightening around hers. “I have a plan.”She pulled back slightly to look at me, her eyes scanning mine—hope flickering there, desperate to latch onto anything that resembled a way out. “A plan?” she echoed, her voice tentative.“I’ll stall Uncle Michael,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “We won’t leave. Not yet. Not until your treatment is complete. And if he still insists on pushing this marriage nonsense… then we’ll go. But I want to be sure we’ve explored every option first.”She let out a small, bitter laugh and shook her head, though a trace of a smile tugged at her lips. “How long do you think you can stall your uncle?” she asked, her tone laced with dry sarcasm. “He’s not exactly the patient type.”Her laugh quickly faded, replaced by a flash of shame, and I saw it then—that quiet anger she carried. Not at me. At herself. At her body for failing. At the fact that her illness had become chains, not just around he
NatalieI stood under the flimsy canopy Lisa had set up, handing out animal cruelty campaign fliers.It was a sweet little setup—messy, mismatched, but hers. I liked that about her. And in a town like Hawkshire, where boredom wrapped around you like a heavy coat, helping her felt like a lifeline.I didn’t want to be here. Cainebrielle University wasn’t my choice—it was my uncle’s dream, not mine.I was just playing along, stuck in a place that felt too polished, too fake, and miles away from anything that felt like home.My old life—my friends, my city, the pulse of it all—was behind me now. All I had was this quiet town and a school filled with kids who had never had to fight for anything.Lisa was the one good surprise.We met during orientation—two misfits orbiting the same chaos. She didn’t care about Greek life or social clout. She just wanted to laugh and talk about weird documentaries and help animals. That was enough for me.Cainebrielle might’ve been built for the ultra-rich,
NatalieI sat through Professor Isaac’s lecture, but my mind was nowhere near the gazebo.I couldn’t focus—couldn’t pretend everything was fine. The image of that wolf, those eyes, the sheer size of it—it replayed over and over like a loop I couldn’t escape. Every sound around me was muffled under the weight of what I’d seen.Was it even real?Yes. It had to be. I wasn’t imagining things. Someone else had been there. He had been there.And that was the other part I couldn’t shake. The stranger.His voice still echoed in my head—calm, steady, like it had reached into the panic and pressed pause. And those eyes. Not just green—alive, like something ancient was staring out from behind them.Who was he?A student? A professor? Someone passing through? I hadn’t seen him around before, and the campus wasn’t that big.He hadn’t stayed long enough for me to find my words, let alone ask questions. Just appeared, said enough to haunt me, and vanished.Part of me wanted to believe I’d dreamed th
NatalieUncle Michael drew in a long breath, his smile appearing like clockwork—polished, polite, and practiced. But it stopped short of his eyes, where something colder lingered."I'm glad you're settling in," he said, voice smooth as glass. "Hawkshire’s a fine place. The right kind of people. The kind who matter. You won’t miss the city at all."As if that alone could wipe away everything we’d left behind.I looked down, jaw tightening. My chest felt like it was folding in on itself.You won’t miss the city at all.But I did. God, I did."I miss my friends," I said, barely more than a whisper. The words floated between us like something fragile. Then, like always, Alison's name surfaced in my mind. Her laugh. Her letters. Her dream. The guilt twisted, low and sharp."And Alison? When will she come to Cainebrielle? She always talked about it like it was magic." I asked.For the first time, Uncle Michael’s composure cracked. The smile slipped. His throat clicked as he swallowed, shift
Natalie“Let’s give it time, Mom,” I said softly, my fingers tightening around hers. “I have a plan.”She pulled back slightly to look at me, her eyes scanning mine—hope flickering there, desperate to latch onto anything that resembled a way out. “A plan?” she echoed, her voice tentative.“I’ll stall Uncle Michael,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “We won’t leave. Not yet. Not until your treatment is complete. And if he still insists on pushing this marriage nonsense… then we’ll go. But I want to be sure we’ve explored every option first.”She let out a small, bitter laugh and shook her head, though a trace of a smile tugged at her lips. “How long do you think you can stall your uncle?” she asked, her tone laced with dry sarcasm. “He’s not exactly the patient type.”Her laugh quickly faded, replaced by a flash of shame, and I saw it then—that quiet anger she carried. Not at me. At herself. At her body for failing. At the fact that her illness had become chains, not just around he
NatalieSomething had to have happened to make her say this—to even think about leaving Hawkshire so suddenly. My mother, for all her spontaneity, wasn’t careless. And this? This felt like more than a whim.“Is everything alright, Mom?” I asked softly, searching her face.She nodded, but the gesture was too quick, too rehearsed. She was lying. Not out of malice, but to protect me. She always did that—carried the weight quietly, so I wouldn’t have to.“You know we can’t,” I said gently, grounding the truth between us.Her eyes shimmered instantly, and she looked away. The dam behind her composure cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but I saw. I felt it.This confinement—this looming illness, this shadow of uncle Michael—was caging her spirit. My mother, who once danced barefoot in the rain, was now drowning in stillness.“I can’t sit back and let you sacrifice yourself for my sake,” she said, her voice trembling.I shook my head, tears already burning a
Natalie“So,” my mother began, folding her hands in her lap with a polite smile, “how did you two meet?”There was a hint of curiosity in her voice, carefully masked but unmistakable to me. She wasn’t just making conversation—she was searching, trying to fit the pieces together.“Cainebrielle,” I answered simply, and her smile deepened. She turned her gaze to Adrian then, clearly expecting him to fill in the blanks.“A student?” she asked lightly, but I felt her eyes slide to mine, subtle and questioning. I hesitated, caught off guard. I didn’t know how much to say.Adrian, ever composed, answered before the silence stretched too long. “A former student,” he said gently. “But now, a sponsor.”His tone was modest, but I saw the flicker in my mother’s eyes—a flash of surprise she couldn’t quite hide. She was probably doing the math in her head. He was far too young, far too striking, to be a sponsor.“I’m filling in for my father,” Adrian added smoothly, catching the shift in her expres
NatalieAs I stepped out of the car, the night air wrapped around me, cool and still. I closed the door gently, expecting Adrian to follow, but when I glanced back, he was still seated behind the wheel, hands resting casually, eyes following my movement with quiet curiosity.I hesitated, then leaned against the window, suddenly aware of how fast my heart was beating.“I didn’t want to seem too forward,” I began, chewing on the inside of my cheek, “but… would you like to come in? I mean, just to meet my mom.”As soon as the words left my mouth, I cringed and instinctively covered it with my hand. God, why did that sound like a proposal? My face flushed with heat, and I scrambled to undo the damage.“Not like we’re getting married or anything…” I added, forcing a laugh that came out too breathy, too nervous. My mouth opened again to explain further, maybe soften the awkwardness, but I gave up and sighed instead, defeated.Adrian let out a full, warm laugh—one of those genuine, deep ones
NatalieWe slipped into Adrian’s car in silence, the soft click of the doors closing feeling louder than it should have.I could sense the weight of his disappointment as he gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly, his jaw set in quiet frustration.He had ended the interruption quickly, whoever it was, but the damage had already been done. My mother’s call had cut the evening short, bringing an abrupt end to what was supposed to be our first real chance to just be—no past, no obligations, no shadows trailing us.I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.“Sorry about the interruption,” Adrian said gently, stealing a glance at me. His eyes softened when they met mine, but he quickly turned his focus back to the road.“It’s okay,” I murmured, though the words felt hollow. I stared out the windshield, watching the world blur by in shades of grey and gold, but my mind wasn’t in the car anymore.My mother’s voice had been steady on the phone—too steady. I knew her calm tone we
Adrian"Please," Graham rasped, still clutching my leg. "If she fails the transformation, she'll die. And even if she lives, I'll be powerless. I have no sons. She’s all I have left. Either way, my bloodline ends."His voice cracked under the strain. His grief clung to the air, thick and suffocating. He wasn’t wrong — but it didn’t change anything.I had seen this before — heads of families, desperate and broken, coming to me with bleeding hearts and empty hands, begging for a different fate.But my answer was always the same."No," I said quietly, my voice like stone. "I’m sorry, Graham. I can't help you."He sagged against me, the last bit of hope draining from him."If I take you into my clan," I continued, "I would be breaking the treaty. The very foundation of the peace we all cling to. When my bloodline broke from the strigoi, it was a war that could have ended us all. We reached an impasse. An agreement was forged: I would not take or turn what belonged to Volodym
AdrianMilo stood there, my father’s old assistant, holding a carton of wine bottles at his feet.The realization hit me. I had completely forgotten I had instructed him to stock the lake house.But even as relief started to creep in, something else made me pause. Milo was uneasy. Too uneasy for something as simple as a delivery."Master," he said, bowing his head in deference, recognizing not just my power, but who I was — his Sire, his Lord.I stepped back slightly, a grim understanding settling over me.I was not like the others. Not strigoi. Not dhampyr.I was something more. Stronger. Older. A bloodline born pure, untwisted — built from power the strigoi could only envy.I could survive on human food. I could walk freely under the sun. I had forged a new race — my own clan — stronger than anything the old world could birth.But strength came with its burdens.My body was almost invincible. My mind sharper than most. My instincts nearly flawless.And yet, my heart — th
AdrianNatalie was perfect — a beauty crafted for me alone, even if she didn’t know it yet.Her body knew. Her soul knew.But her mind was still catching up, still caged by the fragile logic of human life.When I felt the string tighten in my chest — that sharp pull of fear — I knew it wasn’t mine. It was hers.The one I had waited centuries for. The one I had been told would never come.Being a vampire with a soul had its curses. I had sired a few, built a new bloodline stronger than the old ways, but nothing filled the hollow ache inside me. Nothing dulled the loneliness that shadowed me through endless lifetimes — through wars, through plagues, through the rise and fall of civilizations.I had lost friends, lovers, allies. I had buried them all. And yet I remained.Always waiting. Always incomplete.Unlike the strigoi before me, I could not simply choose a mate and bind her to me by force or tradition. Fate had to choose for me. And until Natalie, it never had.I had begun t
NatalieI watched Adrian for a while, unsure how my next words would land. My throat felt tight, my heart louder than it needed to be. But I said it anyway. "Actually… I’m not hungry."My voice came out softer than I intended — hesitant, uncertain.He paused, slowly setting down the utensils and turning off the stove. Then he looked at me, amused. "So," he said, peeling off the apron, "what do you have in mind?"I opened my mouth, then closed it. Words failed me. I wasn’t the type to take the lead — not like this. And I knew, somehow, he already understood that."You don’t strike me as shy," he said, stepping closer.And then he was between my legs.I was still perched on the counter, his presence suddenly too close and not close enough. I had nothing on underneath his shirt, and when I looked at his face, saw the quiet heat in his eyes, I felt the blush rush up my neck and into my cheeks.He smiled at the sight of it. "I like it when you blush, Little Fox," he whispered