MARKED BY BLOODLINE

The night was unnaturally still. Not a breeze stirred the branches outside Evelyn’s bedroom window, and the usual sounds of the forest—crickets, rustling leaves, distant owls—were eerily silent. A heavy weight pressed against her chest, as if the darkness itself had crawled through the cracks of her window and settled atop her like a shroud.She stared at the ceiling, eyes wide open, too wired to sleep but too afraid to rise. The events of the night before still clung to her skin—every whisper, every forbidden glance, every drop of crimson on his collar.Lucien.She shouldn’t even be thinking about him. Not after what she saw. Not after what he told her.“You don’t know what I am, Evelyn,” he had said, his voice a low rasp that still echoed in her bones. “But you will. Soon.”Evelyn sat up in bed, gripping her sheets. Her mind kept circling the same questions: What did he mean by that? Why was her blood different? Why did he look at her as if he were starving?The candle on her bedsid

The night whispered with secrets as Evelyn trudged through the thick underbrush, her lantern swinging in her grip, casting eerie shadows across the forest floor. She wasn’t sure what drew her back to the clearing—curiosity, guilt, or the inexplicable pull she felt toward Lucien. Whatever it was, it overpowered the common sense screaming at her to stay away.The clearing was quiet when she arrived. No sign of blood. No broken branches. It was as if he had vanished into the air. Evelyn stepped forward, heart racing, when a low voice echoed behind her.“You came back.”She spun around, nearly dropping the lantern.Lucien emerged from the shadows, his face pale but strangely beautiful under the moonlight. His eyes—those haunting crimson eyes—locked onto hers. He looked stronger than before, but there was something feral beneath the surface, something hungry.“I… I wasn’t sure if I’d find you,” she whispered.He didn’t smile. “You shouldn’t have come.”“I had to know if you were okay.”Luc

The moment Evelyn opened her eyes, the scent of old stone and ash greeted her like a forgotten memory. The chamber was dark, carved into the mountain’s bones, with only flickering torches casting dancing shadows across its cavernous walls. She had no recollection of being brought here—only the sharp pain of the mark searing across her back and Lucian’s voice murmuring something ancient as her vision faded.Now, her body ached. Not with the usual stiffness of sleep but the soreness of something deeper—something wrong. She sat up slowly, the cold stone beneath her a harsh contrast to the fire raging within her veins.“Awake at last,” came a voice, smooth and deep.Lucian stepped from the shadows, dressed in black as always, but this time his coat was undone, revealing the crimson mark that pulsed across his chest—similar to the one now etched into Evelyn’s skin.“You marked me,” she said, her voice hoarse. “What have you done?”“I saved you.”“No. You changed me.”Lucian didn’t flinch.