2

Death felt nothing like I expected.

I thought it would be cold. Empty. A void of darkness swallowing me whole.

But instead… I burned.

Fire raged inside me, spreading through my veins like molten lava, setting every inch of my body ablaze. My bones ached, stretching, twisting. My muscles coiled too tightly, as if something inside me was breaking—and remaking itself.

I wanted to scream, but no sound came out.

I was trapped in the fire. Trapped in the pain.

And then—

It stopped.

Everything stopped.

I gasped, my body jerking, lungs dragging in air that felt wrong. Too sharp, too clean, too alive.

My eyes flew open.

At first, everything was too much. Too bright. Too loud. Too intense. The light above me burned, stabbing straight through my skull, and the smell—gods, the smells—hit me like a wave.

Wood. Smoke. A trace of leather.

And blood.

The scent of it was thick in the air, metallic and sweet, curling into my senses like an invitation. My stomach twisted—not in nausea, but in hunger.

I froze.

What the hell was happening to me?

I tried to sit up, but my body didn’t feel like mine. Everything was… sharper. Too smooth. Too fast. The moment I moved, I felt the shift in the air, the whisper of fabric against my skin, the tiniest creak of the mattress beneath me.

I wasn’t in my bed.

Panic clawed up my throat. I wasn’t home.

I looked around, my vision sharpening like a camera lens adjusting into crystal-clear focus. The room was unfamiliar—dark wooden walls, a fireplace still smoldering, books stacked haphazardly on a nearby table. The scent of aged paper mixed with something musky and rich.

I wasn’t alone.

A chair scraped against the floor.

I turned my head—too fast, too fluid.

And there he was.

The man from the alley.

The man with the silver-grey eyes.

Lucian.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, watching me with an unreadable expression. His face was cast in shadows, but I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers curled slightly—like he was bracing for something.

I swallowed, and even that felt strange.

The heat in my throat hadn’t faded. If anything, it was worse. A sharp, aching burn that coiled inside me like something starving.

His gaze flicked to my throat.

I didn’t need to touch it to know.

I’d been bitten.

Memories slammed into me all at once.

The two men in the alley.

The golden-eyed one pinning me down.

The pain. The darkness.

Lucian’s voice telling me to stay awake.

And then—his fangs.

I sucked in a sharp breath, pressing back against the headboard. “You—” My voice came out wrong. Lower, smoother. Almost… velvet.

Lucian didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

“How do you feel?” His voice was calm, but there was something dangerous coiled beneath it.

How did I feel?

Like I was on fire. Like I could hear the wind whispering outside the walls. Like my body wasn’t my own anymore.

I didn’t answer.

I just reached up with trembling fingers, brushing them against the skin of my neck. My heart should have been racing. But—

I stopped.

Pressed my palm flat against my chest.

Nothing.

No heartbeat.

No steady thrum beneath my ribs.

My breath hitched. My lungs still worked, but they felt… unnecessary. The movement of my chest was just habit.

I wasn’t breathing because I needed to.

I was breathing because I thought I was supposed to.

I met Lucian’s gaze, my voice barely a whisper.

“What did you do to me?”

A muscle in his jaw tightened. “I saved your life.”

My stomach twisted. “No,” I whispered. “You ended it.”

His silver eyes darkened, but he didn’t argue.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, needing to move. The second my feet hit the wooden floor, my entire body hummed. I could feel the smooth grain beneath my toes, every shift of my weight, every movement of the air around me.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

My fingers dug into the mattress. “I need to go home.”

Lucian sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “That’s not possible.”

The words hit me like a slap.

I snapped my gaze back to him. “Excuse me?”

“You can’t go back,” he said evenly. “Not like this.”

“Like what?” My voice was rising now, sharp with panic. “What the hell did you turn me into?”

He hesitated, watching me with something that almost looked like pity.

I hated it.

I surged to my feet—too fast. The moment I stood, the room tilted, and a wave of scent crashed into me.

Lucian.

It hit me like a physical force. The scent of him—dark, warm, something raw and untamed.

I sucked in a sharp breath, and the ache in my throat exploded.

My mouth parted. My vision sharpened. And suddenly—

I heard it.

His heartbeat.

Slow. Steady. Thick with life.

I swayed on my feet. My lips parted, my teeth aching, my fingers trembling at my sides.

I could hear the blood rushing through his veins.

A sound escaped me—half gasp, half hunger.

Lucian went rigid.

His eyes locked onto mine, and for the first time since I woke up, something flickered across his face.

Recognition.

Understanding.

Fear.

I took a step back. My entire body was shaking.

“No,” I whispered. “No. This isn’t real.”

Lucian stood slowly, his movements careful. Controlled. “Elle.”

I flinched at the sound of my name on his lips.

Because suddenly, I knew.

I knew what he had done.

I knew what I was.

I didn’t feel human anymore because… I wasn’t.

The burn in my throat. The unnatural way my body moved. The way I could hear the pulse of his blood like a siren’s call.

I was one of them.

Lucian took a slow step toward me, voice low, careful. “You need to drink.”

My stomach clenched.

Oh, God.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, horrified at the truth clawing its way to the surface.

He was right.

I was thirsty.

But not for water.

For blood.

My legs gave out beneath me. I barely registered the movement before Lucian was there. He caught me before I hit the ground, his hands firm but gentle.

“Breathe,” he murmured. “It’ll pass.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head. “No. No, no, no. This isn’t happening.”

He sighed, shifting his grip on me, holding me steady. “I’m sorry.”

His voice was soft. Almost… pained.

But I couldn’t think about that.

I could only think about one thing.

I wasn’t Elle Valehart anymore.