Ilyara took Silver's head and placed it on her lap, bit into her wrist, forced Silver to open his mouth, and let her blood flow into it. Silver's eyes shot open—his spiraled eyes hauntingly beautiful.
He struck immediately, sinking his extended fangs into her wrist. The first taste was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was addictive. It heightened his senses.
The blood helped regenerate what he had lost. He drank like a man dying of thirst. His dull grey skin became pale and healthy.
But besides that, nothing else changed. His eyes were now silver, and his hair had grown long. Strange tattoos had etched themselves into his skin. There were some perks—he was even more handsome.
Silver finally regained consciousness and immediately retracted his fangs on instinct. His glazed eyes cleared as he looked up at Ilyara, who was smiling down at him.
"So… I'm a vampire now, aren't I?"
Ilyara nodded her head guiltily.
"What now?" he asked.
"W-we… I mean, I have to… drink your blood to… complete the ritual."
Silver felt like rolling his eyes but settled on sighing. "Get it over with."
Ilyara happily dove in. She sank her fangs into his neck and drew blood. The moment it landed on her tongue, their hearts stopped for a split second, but it was enough to form the bond.
At that moment, their emotions heightened to an unprecedented level. It was difficult to tell where one feeling started and another ended. Their hearts pounded in perfect sync, one beat at a time, as if they were one.
It didn't stop there. Something that shouldn't have been possible happened, thanks to an unforeseen circumstance—now made possible because of Xal'Verith's action, or lack thereof.
He hadn't taken their souls. And now, a Soul Connection was forming. She could now sense what he sensed, see what he saw, and feel what he felt.
Because of the Blood Exchange, their blood boiled as they took on each other's traits. Ilyara's vampire and succubus blood was being strengthened, while Silver's corrupted blood was awakening—evolving into something else entirely.
Ilyara stopped drinking from Silver, the effects of their forming bond overwhelming their senses. Both of them couldn't keep up with the changes and so, they fell unconscious.
The living room was now filled with unnatural sounds as Ilyara and Silver's bodies underwent a strange metamorphosis in their sleep.
•••
Hanna walked out of the elevator and was immediately assaulted by the scent of sweet blood permeating the air. She used her vampire speed to rush to the living room, where the scent was thickest.
She stopped when she found a bare-chested young miss and a young man. She looked between them—unconscious—and wondered what had happened.
She saw a puddle of dark purple blood and some blood-written ancient runes, and guessed her young miss had done something impulsive again.
She walked up to them and paused as she noted several differences—changes that didn't make sense and were too overwhelming to process.
The young man had become even more handsome, now radiating unknown strength. The same could be said for her young miss, who now had dark purple skin and demonic-looking horns curled back on her forehead like a goat's.
She shook herself from her trance and decided to wait for answers when they woke up. With a sigh, she lifted the young miss and carried her to her room, placing her on the bed.
She returned to the living room and dragged Silver across the floor by his head, groaning in the process. She placed him on the bed beside the young miss.
Heading back to the living room, she surveyed the mess, shaking her head.
"I guess I'll have to clean this up. And pick up some fresh, live blood for young miss. Something tells me she'll be hungry when she wakes up."
Sighing, Hanna went to get the mop.
•••
POV???
I was in a room, small, almost cramped. I was seated cross-legged on a mat. A table with a tea set sat on a chabudai, a traditional Japanese short-legged table. I didn't know how I knew that, but I just did.
Right across from me sat a white-haired man. His features resembled my own, but more mature, weary, ragged, sharp even. He wore a kimono that exposed his bare chest slightly.
He wasn't wearing a hakama over it, which told me he felt comfortable, relaxed, and—more importantly—confident. That didn't put me at ease, knowing he must know more than I did.
"Who are you?" I couldn't stop myself from asking. He was being too mysterious for my liking.
He looked at me with crimson eyes—cold, detached. They reminded me of my own. But somehow, I could tell they held so much pain. Who was he, really?
He didn't answer. Instead, he poured tea for both of us. The aroma stirred my senses, and I found myself reaching for the cup before I could think it through.
I took a sip, and an unconscious smile tugged at my lips. It was delicious—everything perfectly balanced. The man watched me, silent, as he also took a sip.
Even though his expression didn't change, I saw a shift in his gaze. It felt peaceful, nostalgic.
He exhaled. "Yumiko always made the best tea. Mine needs some work," he said light-heartedly. It felt like he wasn't talking to me, especially since he was looking into his cup instead of at me.
Then his gaze lifted. "Who I am doesn't matter. Where we are doesn't matter. But what you must do does."
I frowned. "What I must do?"
He nodded. "There's a lot that needs to be done, and things haven't been going as predicted. I didn't expect this beginning to have an annoying past that deviates from other beginnings."
"Maybe talk slower. I don't understand what you're trying to say."
He looked at me—really looked at me.
"I need you to save them all. Everyone. I want all of them to have a happy ending. I want us… anyway, I want you to step up. It might sound cruel, but your world is about to get a lot more painful. If you stay on the sidelines, you'll lose more than you think."
"Just be clear with me. What do you want?"
He exhaled, frustration flickering in his eyes.
"You must wake her up."
I narrowed my eyes. "Who?"
"You know who. She's the one I want saved first. Good news is—in this life, she might not be used and discarded… if you play your cards right. But the bad news is, the power coursing through her veins, different from yours, but ultimately the same, is a problem."
"What's going to happen to Ophelia?"
"Nothing, if you wake her up and get rid of those who mean to use her."
"Who are these people?"
"You'll find out soon enough. After all, you have the Eye of Truth. It'll awaken in about a week or so, but beware of the price."
"What price?"
"It's time for you to go. We'll speak soon. For now, please save her. Save them all. That's If, you don't want to end up like me."
A lonely gaze reflected in his eyes. I couldn't pull myself away—so haunting and poetically beautiful, as tragic as it was.
I felt myself being pulled away, and the next thing I knew—
I was awake.