THE BITE

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.”

Lucien took a step closer. Evelyn stood her ground, though every instinct screamed at her to run. His presence was overwhelming, a force of nature cloaked in a man's form. He smelled of blood and rain, and something wild beneath it all.

“Do you know what you’ve done, Evelyn?”

Her breath caught. “I saved your life.”

“No,” he growled softly. “You marked yourself.”

She blinked. “What?”

Lucien extended his hand. His fingers brushed the side of her neck—right where the mark burned beneath her skin. It was faint, like a bruise, but it pulsed with heat when he touched it.

“You touched me while I was in transition,” he said. “Your blood… it healed me. But it did more than that. It bound us.”

“I don’t understand…”

Lucien’s eyes darkened. “You carry my mark now. My curse. My fate.”

Evelyn backed away, heart thundering. “You’re saying… I’m cursed?”

“We both are.”

A gust of wind howled through the trees, and with it came a scent that made Lucien’s head snap toward the dark woods. His fangs extended—sharp, glinting white.

“They found me.”

“Who?” Evelyn asked, fear creeping into her voice.

“The bloodline. The ones who want me dead.”

Before she could react, Lucien grabbed her hand. “We have to leave. Now.”

He pulled her through the trees, moving faster than she thought possible. The forest blurred around them. Behind them, distant growls and howls echoed. Evelyn’s legs burned, but Lucien never let go of her hand.

They burst into an abandoned chapel hidden deep in the woods. Candles still sat on dusty altars, long burned out. Lucien slammed the door behind them and leaned against it, chest heaving.

Evelyn collapsed onto one of the pews. “What the hell is going on?”

Lucien looked at her then—truly looked. Not with anger. Not with fear. But with a raw, aching desperation.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he said. “I didn’t ask to be cursed. But I’ll be damned if I let them take you because of me.”

Evelyn stared at him. “Why do you care?”

Silence hung between them. Then he crossed the distance in two strides, kneeling before her. His hand cupped her cheek, cold but gentle.

“Because something about you burns through the darkness I’ve lived in for centuries.”

She should have pulled away. She should have screamed. But Evelyn did none of those things.

Instead, she leaned into his touch.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she whispered.

“You’re changing.”

A pause.

“Can it be stopped?”

Lucien didn’t answer. His silence was enough.

The air between them tightened. Then, before either could speak again, the door rattled violently. A deep, guttural growl pierced the silence. Evelyn clutched Lucien’s arm.

“They’re here.”

Lucien rose slowly, eyes glowing. “Stay behind me.”

His voice dropped to a primal snarl as he stepped forward, the predator in him unleashed. The door splintered.

And Evelyn realized—for the first time—just how inhuman he truly was.

The war had come for them.

And she was no longer just a bystander.