공유

Chapter 4

작가: Margaret Z
Ethan’s expression froze for a second ,then smoothed into practiced calm.

He guided Celia toward the terrace, voice low but sharp enough to slice through the morning air from my second-floor window:

“Sweetheart, Celia has urgent business. We’ll talk outside. Don’t let it spoil your breakfast.”

From the bay window, I watched.

Celia collapsed against his chest, tears glistening like shattered glass.

Ethan’s jaw tightened. He gripped her shoulders, pulling her back.

“Are you insane? How many times must I say—never come here. If Lena suspects anything, I’ll—”

“I know I shouldn’t have come…” Her voice trembled, fingers tracing the grainy image. “But I’m scared. The doctor said… last night was too rough. The heartbeat’s unstable.”

She lifted her chin, tears catching the sun.

“Ethan,I’m pregnant.Our first child. You said you wanted an heir.”

Clatter.

The coffee cup shattered on the floor.

Pregnant.

The word detonated in my skull.

Years ago, I curled in his arms after my Embrace, I’d asked about children.

“Vampire blood is too volatile,” he’d murmured, stroking my hair.

“Hybrids often lose control. I won’t risk you. Won’t let anything divide us.”

I’d melted into his “devotion.”

Agreed without hesitation.

Now I saw the truth,he didn’t reject children,he rejected mine.

Ethan stared at the scan. Shock flickered—then melted into something warmer, possessive.

“Nine weeks.” His thumb brushed the image. “We’ll get you checked again today. “This child will be safe.”

Celia’s tears softened into a watery smile. She rose on tiptoe, fingers tracing his jaw.

Ethan’s eyes darkened. Palm settling low on her back, thumb stroking her hip.

His voice, low yet sharp as a silver needle piercing my veins.: “Pregnant and still teasing me?”

Celia’s blush deepened. He brushed a stray tear from her cheek, gaze lingering. “Wait in the car. Good girl.”

I stepped back from the window, and returned to the table.

Then I sipped, the cold and bitter coffee.

A strange peace settled in my chest.

Thank goodness we never had a child.

No tether. No reason to stay.

Ethan re-entered, mask of remorse perfectly in place.

“Sweetheart… urgent trip out of state. Two, maybe three days.”

“Wait for me. I’ll bring you something special.”

I met his eyes. “Okay.”

Relief softened his features. He left without a backward glance.

After watching his car vanish down the drive, I glanced at the calendar.

Two days.

Our last.

The afternoon light bled gold across the floor when my phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

A photo: the ultrasound.

Text beneath:

“Thought you should know—I’m carrying Ethan’s child. His first heir. You barren hag, give it up. Make way for his true mate.”

Celia.

Bold now. Bold now, armed with a fetus as her shield.

I felt nothing.

No rage. No grief.

Only a quiet, certain finality, like a heavy door swinging shut and locking itself for good.

For the next forty-eight hours, Ethan stayed gone.

I used the silence.

I organized my research notes. Shattered the wedding photo frame. Melted the ring box in the lab furnace.

Only essentials remained: passport, journals, a single faded photo of my human family.

Packed into one small suitcase.

Dawn of departure day.

Sunlight spilled through the curtains, warming my hand.

No burn. No pain.

I felt the happiness depth in my heart.

I took one last walk through the penthouse—this gilded cage. Then, I did a final check of my belongings.

I brought no jewelry; to me now, it was all just golden chains, nothing more.

I zipped the suitcase.

At the time I closed the front door, my phone lit up—Celia again.

Not an ultrasound this time.

A wedding photo: her in ivory lace, standing in a candlelit underground hall.

Eternal roses bloomed in shadowed alcoves, blood-red vines curling around obsidian pillars.

Ethan knelt, offering a ring etched with ancient runes.

The air shimmered with protective wards against daylight.

“He proposed. Tonight’s ceremony in the Central Park Tower.

He’s giving me and our child a name.

When he returns, you will be disowned from the House of Black. You’d better leave.

Now,this home will be mine.”

I typed back, fingers steady:

“Congratulations. You finally got what you wanted. He’s yours now.”

Send.

My phone buzzed—a text:

“Here.”

My ride.

I rolled the suitcase down the steps.

A black armored convoy pulled up under maximum security.

Sam, Johnson’s liaison,stepped out to meet me,and he stowed my suitcase.

“Airport first,” he said. “Devices get confiscated on landing. Ready?”

I nodded. “Confirmed.”

At a red light near the Central Park Tower, a burst of commotion erupted ahead. Pedestrians were pointing their phones toward my convoy.

"Look at those cars—straight out of a Mission Impossible movie!"

"Is there some big shot over there?"

I turned.

There was Ethan in tailored black, and Celia beside him in ivory lace, clinging to his arm, radiant.

The last ember of sunset gilded the carpet, while protective wards shimmered faintly around the entrance.

Ethan overheard the commotion among the guests and the crowd, then turned his gaze toward my direction.

Our eyes locked through the window crack,and for a second, his smile shattered.

It froze, utterly stricken.

Then, my phone rang.
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    At Liberia’s border, the air reeks of sweat, blood, and dust. This is where the Evola virus lab hides: outwardly a cluster of rusted tin shacks baking under the relentless sun, but beneath them lies the true facility—a fortress of blast doors, retinal scanners, and biometric locks offering no mercy.On my first day, Johnson intercepted me just inside the blast door, arms crossed over his iodine-stained lab coat, sweat beading at his temple.He didn’t smile, only studied the dust on my boots and the resolve in my stance. “Sure this is what you want?” His voice was gravel, low enough for only us. “No salon here. No penthouse view. You traded a lab coat for a ball gown… now you’re back? Won’t it kill you?” I shook my head. “I came to finish what I started. Not for luxury. This road… I owe it something.”I was right. When I bury myself in microscopes, viral strains, pipettes, and data streams, the ghosts stay away—Ethan’s face, Celia’s laugh, the cold weight of that ring—all fade. Time sl

  • From Shadow to the Longest Sun   Chapter 8

    Celia’s scream died the instant the door clicked shut, swallowed by the hollow silence of the hallway. Ethan slumped against the wall, chest heaving, the name a silent prayer on his lips: Lena.The black box surfaced in his mind—the one she’d left with quiet finality. “Open it in two days.” She had vanished that very night. Racing home, he tore it from the drawer, knuckles white as he flipped the lid.Inside lay a single ring: the one she’d slipped onto his left finger the night of her transformation. He touched it. Ice-cold. Heavy as stone. He reached for her through the blood-bond, straining for the familiar hum of her presence—only void answered. Utter, absolute silence.The Day Lena LeftBefore my departure, one final task remained: brewing the Vervain potion—the only thing capable of severing my bond with Ethan. I lifted the clay bowl. Inside, the deep violet liquid swirled, infused with a single drop of Ethan’s blood which I had saved within the hidden clasp of my wedding band

  • From Shadow to the Longest Sun   Chapter 7

    The screen glowed with a message that needed no signature:“Lena, credit where it’s due—you finally knew your place. Face it, you were never Ethan’s equal. And you vanished. Smart. From now on? I’m the Mrs. Black. This baby? His first heir.”No name was signed, but the smug venom in every word twisted his stomach like poison. Celia.Ethan scrolled down—ultrasounds, engagement photos of him and Celia, caption after caption dripping with mockery. All sent to Lena. His head throbbed. He’d buried the secret deep, convinced she’d never find out. Yet she’d known everything.He’d warned Celia a hundred times: “You’re just a toy. Don’t touch Lena. She’s the only rule.” And she’d shattered it.Jaw locked, rage burning beneath his skin, he snatched his keys and drove straight to her Brooklyn apartment. When the door opened, Celia’s smile faltered. “You’re here to take me home? Is our new place ready?”Before she could finish, his hand seized her chin—hard. Her face paled.“Who gave you the nerve

  • From Shadow to the Longest Sun   Chapter 6

    A flicker of triumph lit Celia’s eyes—this was what she’d waited for. She hid it behind a tender smile.“Go then. Finding her comes first. Don’t worry about me.”“I’ll wait at home with our baby.”If not for that call about Lena going missing, Ethan might have softened by now.Ethan merely turned and left without a word.The car roared to life and tore down the dimly lit road.Inside, he dialed her number again. And again. Each ring felt like a hammer against his ribs. Pick up. Please.He remembered her voice yesterday: “You promised I’d never feel alone.”He slammed the accelerator. Tires screamed. Streetlights blurred into streaks of gold.He skidded to a halt at the penthouse. Servants stood frozen in the foyer, eyes wide.Ethan burst through the door—and stopped dead.The wall where their wedding portrait hung was empty. Just a pale rectangle on the wallpaper.He took the stairs two at a time, heart pounding.The closet: his suits hung neatly. Her side—bare. Empty hangers swayed sl

  • From Shadow to the Longest Sun   Chapter 5

    I hadn't anticipated seeing Ethan on my way out.Luckily, the window was only open a crack.I slammed it shut—sealing the past away with a single motion.My screen flashed: Ethan Black.I stared, then pressed ignore.Since they’d confiscate all devices on landing anyway, I cracked the window and let the phone slip from my hand, vanishing into the roadside grass.No trace. No tether. No return.The plane lifted through the twilight, and Manhattan dissolved into a blanket of starlight.Ten hours. Three time zones. One life, buried.I did not look back.West Africa. Dawn.The sedan jolted down a dirt track. Smoke from cooking fires tangled with the scent of fever and despair.A mother knelt in the dust, cradling a boy no older than five. Purple lesions bloomed across his neck. His breath hitched—a fragile bird trapped in a cage of bone.Evola.Nearby, a line of children waited silently outside a thatched clinic, eyes hollow, arms marked with IV scars. One girl clutched a rag doll, whisper

  • From Shadow to the Longest Sun   Chapter 4

    Ethan’s expression froze for a second ,then smoothed into practiced calm.He guided Celia toward the terrace, voice low but sharp enough to slice through the morning air from my second-floor window:“Sweetheart, Celia has urgent business. We’ll talk outside. Don’t let it spoil your breakfast.”From the bay window, I watched.Celia collapsed against his chest, tears glistening like shattered glass.Ethan’s jaw tightened. He gripped her shoulders, pulling her back.“Are you insane? How many times must I say—never come here. If Lena suspects anything, I’ll—”“I know I shouldn’t have come…” Her voice trembled, fingers tracing the grainy image. “But I’m scared. The doctor said… last night was too rough. The heartbeat’s unstable.”She lifted her chin, tears catching the sun.“Ethan,I’m pregnant.Our first child. You said you wanted an heir.”Clatter.The coffee cup shattered on the floor.Pregnant.The word detonated in my skull.Years ago, I curled in his arms after my Embrace, I’d asked abo

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