Chapter 3 – Eyes in the Darkness

Elara stood frozen in front of the towering mansion before her. Lightning flashed in the distance, briefly illuminating the building before darkness swallowed it again.

This place… it wasn’t just a house.

An old European-style mansion. Tall pillars held up the grand front porch, with massive windows framed by intricate carvings. The gray stone walls bore the marks of time, slightly worn but still standing strong—exuding an air of authority and quiet intimidation.

Behind them, the towering iron gates had closed shut, as if severing them from the outside world.

"Come inside," Lucien finally said, pushing open the massive wooden door, which looked heavier than it should be.

Elara hesitated before stepping in after him.

The moment she crossed the threshold, the air inside felt different.

Not cold. Not damp. But… too quiet.

The mansion’s grand foyer stretched before her, its black marble floors gleaming despite the dim lighting. A sweeping staircase with a mahogany railing spiraled upward to the second floor, while long hallways stretched into the shadows.

Framed paintings hung along the walls, portraits of aristocratic figures from the 18th or 19th century, dressed in elegant clothing with unreadable expressions.

A grand crystal chandelier dangled from the high ceiling, but its glow was faint—almost like it wasn’t fully lit.

This place… was far from ordinary.

"It feels like… a museum," Elara murmured, barely above a whisper.

Lucien glanced at her, the corner of his lips lifting slightly—but not quite into a smile. "This house has been here for a long time. I like it the way it is."

Elara wrapped her arms around herself, trying to shake off the unease crawling up her spine. "Do you live here alone?"

Lucien stepped deeper into the house. "Not always."

A vague answer. Not exactly reassuring.

Elara exhaled softly, then turned back toward the entrance. The rain was still pouring outside. Through the large windows, she could see the vast estate beyond, looking even more desolate beneath the stormy sky.

She turned back just as Lucien moved toward the fireplace, lighting it with an effortless motion. Warm orange light flickered to life, casting long shadows across the room.

Lucien turned to her, his expression more serious now.

"You must have a lot of questions," he said.

Elara nodded slowly. "I don’t even know where to start."

Lucien patted the back of the large sofa in front of him. "Sit. I’ll explain what I can."

Elara hesitated but finally took a seat, though the unease in her chest didn’t fade. She had no idea if this was the right decision—but she also knew there was no turning back.

Lucien sat across from her, his posture relaxed—yet his eyes remained sharp.

"Tell me," Elara said at last. "Why is my blood different? What really happened tonight?"

Lucien studied her for a moment before exhaling.

"Do you remember when I told you your blood is something they’ve been searching for?"

Elara nodded.

Lucien leaned back, his gaze fixed on the fire. "Ordinary human blood is just… sustenance to them. But there’s another kind of blood—one that is much more than that. Blood with power."

Elara’s throat felt dry. "What kind of power?"

Lucien turned to her, his golden eyes darker now.

"Legends call it Primordial Blood or Pure Blood—blood that grants true immortality, blood that can bind and control, or even…" He paused before continuing, "...resurrect something that was never meant to return."

Elara’s heartbeat quickened. "And you think I…"

Lucien gave a slow nod. "I’m certain."

Elara let out a short, breathless laugh—one that sounded more like desperate disbelief. "That’s insane. I’m just an ordinary girl. I’m nobody."

"No ordinary human draws them in like you did tonight," Lucien said. "And no ordinary human’s blood makes them lose control like that."

Elara pressed her fingers against her temples, trying to make sense of it all. "How is that possible? I’ve never felt different before."

Lucien studied her carefully, as if searching for something in her expression.

"That’s what we need to figure out," he said at last.

Elara bit her lip. "So… what happens now?"

Lucien leaned forward, his expression unreadable.

"Now," he said quietly, "I have to make sure no one can track you."

Elara swallowed. "What do you mean?"

Lucien’s gaze sharpened. "Tonight, we got lucky. But they will come back. And next time, they won’t come in small numbers."

Elara remembered the crimson eyes, the way those creatures had hungered for her. She clenched her hands together, trying to steady the tremor in her fingers.

"What do we do?" Her voice wavered slightly, though she tried to keep it steady.

Lucien held her gaze for a long moment before answering, his voice like stone scraping against stone.

"We have to hide you before they find you again. And that means… from now on, you stay here. With me."

**

The silence inside Lucien’s house felt heavier than before. The only sound was the soft crackling of the fire in the fireplace, its glow dancing across the polished black marble floor.

Elara sat on the sofa, still clutching the damp edges of her coat. She hadn’t fully processed everything that had happened tonight—her blood, those creatures, Lucien.

The man stood by the large window, his eyes fixed outside on the vast courtyard, now shrouded in a thin veil of mist. His expression was calm, but something in his gaze made Elara uneasy.

Lucien let out a quiet breath. "They’re out there."

Elara stiffened. "What?"

Lucien turned to face her, his gaze locking onto hers. "They won’t attack now. They know their limits."

A shiver ran down Elara’s spine. "But you said they’d come back—"

"And they have."

Lucien moved slowly toward the fireplace, though his attention remained on the window. "They can’t get in," he continued. "This house is protected. They can only watch from a distance."

Elara bit her lip. "Protected how?"

Lucien didn’t answer right away. He lifted his hand, letting his fingers hover over a barely visible engraving on the wooden wall near the fireplace. At first glance, it seemed like a simple decoration—but the moment he touched it, something shimmered, like golden threads woven into the wood.

"This house is more than just a home," he said. "It’s surrounded by an old protection. A barrier that’s been here for a long time, something they can’t break through."

Elara stared at him, a mix of curiosity and fear stirring inside her. "Did you put it there?"

Lucien gave a faint smile, but there was exhaustion behind it. "Not me. Someone who lived here before."

Elara swallowed. Her questions were piling up, but right now, only one mattered.

"So they’re just… waiting outside?"

Lucien nodded. "They want to scare you. To remind you that they’re there. That they won’t stop."

Elara’s breath quickened. She couldn’t see anything beyond the dimly lit courtyard, but now she knew—out there, hidden in the shadows between the trees, they were watching.

"How long will they stay?" she asked softly.

Lucien’s gaze darkened. "Until they realize the only way to get what they want… is to attack."

Elara tensed. "And if that happens?"

Lucien stepped closer, his voice calm but laced with something sharp.

"Then I’ll make sure they never leave this place alive."

Elara held her breath. He spoke of death as if it was nothing.

But before she could respond, Lucien suddenly turned toward the window, his expression shifting.

Something was there.

He strode quickly to the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to see. His golden eyes sharpened, scanning the darkness.

Elara stood, her pulse hammering. "What is it?"

Lucien didn’t answer.

Seconds passed in tense silence before he finally murmured, almost too softly to hear—

"They’re not alone."

A chill crept down Elara’s spine. "What do you mean?"

Lucien turned back to her, his entire posture on edge. "I know their energy. But there’s something else out there."

Elara didn’t understand. "You mean… something other than them?"

Lucien nodded slowly. "Someone older."

Fear curled in Elara’s stomach. The creatures from earlier had already been terrifying—but if even Lucien was wary of this presence, then whatever was out there had to be far worse.

Lucien approached the front door, his hand hovering over the handle without touching it. He closed his eyes, as if sensing whatever stood beyond the thick wooden barrier.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.

Then, unexpectedly, a small smile tugged at Lucien’s lips.

"So you finally came," he murmured, as if speaking to someone unseen.

Elara swallowed hard. "Lucien… who’s out there?"

Lucien opened his eyes, sharper than before.

"Someone who’s been waiting for me."

Before Elara could ask anything else, a sound echoed from the other side of the door.

Not thunder. Not the wind. Not the creaking of tree branches.

A soft, deliberate knock.

Elara froze.

Whatever was out there—whoever it was—they wanted in.

She turned to Lucien, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Lucien… who are you?