A sharp knock against the wooden door shattered the thick silence of the room.Arisha's senses flared. Before she could respond, the door creaked open.
Mikhael stood there—shirt unbuttoned, hair damp with sweat—as if he had been running... or fighting something invisible.
He wiped the cold sweat from his neck with the back of his hand and stepped inside without a second thought.
"What brings you here at this hour?" she asked, her voice laced with shadow and sleep."The dark veil of night... didn't end well for everyone," Mikhael replied, closing the door behind him.
His golden eyes searched hers. He looked broken—or perhaps pretended to be. But when he gazed at her, something shifted. A crack in his mask.
He stepped closer, slowly, as if afraid to startle her, then leaned toward her face. His breath was warm, thick with unsaid words.And then, with a stolen whisper, he kissed her lips.
"I love you, Arisha."
The world stopped. Arisha's chest fluttered like a bird trapped between ribs. A mix of shock, suspicion… and a dangerous spark of something returned.
Mikhael closed his eyes for a second, as though those words hurt more than they should. His jaw clenched, a vein in his neck pulsing hard.
"I never learned to love without destroying what I love," he whispered—not as a confession, but a sentence.
He stepped back with the same gentleness with which he had touched her. His smile wavered, a fragile line between tenderness and control.
"I'll let you sleep, beautiful.As for the slave… don't worry. He's being taken care of. I only do it for you."
He turned to leave, but before stepping out, he glanced back one last time.
"The ring answered tonight. Not to me… but to something that sleeps within you. Maybe it's time you remembered it."
The door clicked shut. Silence returned—but peace did not.
Arisha remained seated, lips still warm, heart at war. She clutched the ring resting on her chest. It pulsed again—as if something inside it breathed… something ancient, something alive.And then she heard it. A torn, distant voice that wasn't Mikhael's.
"Don't trust him…"
"Baco…" she whispered, and the ring pulsed once more.
As always, the night hadn't ended for her.She felt it—she couldn't confuse her feelings with the man she was meant to marry.
"Not anymore… Mikhael, I'm sorry, not anymore," she murmured, pressing the ring against her chest.
That whisper from Baco refused to leave her.Feigning calm, she let the unrest thrum beneath her skin."And if it's true… I have to see it for myself."
It was two in the morning.She grabbed her coat and walked out without looking back, trying to escape the weight of that kiss.
From the shadows, the housekeeper watched and went to inform the young master.But Mikhael was already seated in the darkness, as if he'd known all along."Thank you. Let her go."
He ran his fingers over his lips and let out a soft chuckle."I hope this calms her down… my future bride."
He took his midnight-blue cloak and slipped out through the window, unseen.The night air smelled of dampness and secrets.
From the balcony, he leapt four stories down, landing with inhuman grace.He saw her walking in the distance—but didn't follow.
Instead, he opened a hidden gate and descended into the tunnels.There, in the damp darkness, human rats—slaves—crawled toward him.
Mikhael greeted them with fangs bared.One by one, he bit them until the last drop."That's enough," he murmured, wiping blood on his sleeve. "For now."
Meanwhile, Arisha, determined to stay unseen, ventured into the slums—where even the oldest vampires feared to tread.
That cursed land, forgotten by law and sanity, was the graveyard of the damned.First-generation vampires, deformed and ravenous, wandered like beasts.Lost hybrids, ghouls, blood dealers tainted by corruption.
Here, time stood in a cycle of rot.She masked her scent with verbena and enchanted mud.An old trick—but it worked.
Bright eyes watched her from the shadows.They didn't attack.
They respected her… or perhaps recognized who the ring on her chest belonged to.Finally, she reached a stone arch covered in shattered seals.
A hooded figure awaited her."Arisha of the Silent Blood…" the creature said, unmoving. "I didn't expect you so soon.""I'm looking for the slave called Baco. I know he's here."
The figure tilted its head.Its bone mask bore three carved eyes… and they seemed to shift on their own.
"He was. But what you seek… may no longer exist. Down here, the useless must fight to survive. We call them 'echoes.' If you want him, you'll have to descend. Not as an observer.""What do you want?""A fragment of your soul… or your will put to the test."With no further words, the mediator raised a hand.The floor groaned beneath her feet, opening to reveal a spiral staircase descending into a pit lit by blue fire.Arisha swallowed hard. She would do it.For Baco.She descended.
The heat was unbearable. The scent of fresh blood and rusted metal clung to her throat.From the gate, she saw a hellish scene: bodies, wounded and writhing.
Some alive. Some dying.In the center, a boy covered in dust and black marks across his back.Breathing raggedly. His face half-wrapped in bandages.
"Baco…" she whispered.Then, his eyes opened.Empty.Until he saw her."Arisha… is it… real?"She ran to him.Despite the stench, despite the pain—she embraced him. He trembled.
"You came…" he said, and in his voice, at last, something human."I always will," she replied.From above, the mediator's voice rang out, neutral and cold:"Time is a wheel. And you've just moved one of its spokes.
What you do now… will change more than you know."And then, an alarm blared.
Something had broken in the tunnel system.Arisha knew: they wouldn't leave easily.
Watching them, Morgana whispered:
"There she is. Mikhael came just as planned…"