Elowen the legendary birth

Chapter 11: obsession

Talia

The air in the room was thick with incense and bloodlust.

Talia’s fingers gripped the silk sheets as a male vampire pressed kisses and fangs down her throat, feeding with the slow reverence of a lover. She fed in return, her mouth red and wet against his bare chest, their bodies tangled in heat, hunger, and mutual craving.

There was no emotion in it. Only need. Only dominance.

Then her phone buzzed across the room.

Talia froze mid-motion.

The vampire above her groaned. “Ignore it.”

She shoved him off with a grunt and slid from the bed, still glowing with the aftershocks of feeding. “You don’t tell me what to ignore.”

He flopped back against the pillows, licking blood from his lips, watching her with a lazy smirk. “One day you’ll stay after the taste.”

Talia ignored him, grabbing her phone off the dresser.

Anton.

She answered instantly. “Talk.”

His voice came smooth and low, as if he knew exactly the mood he was interrupting. “Thought you’d want to know Kaelen has just left the Agency.”

Talia stiffened. “Where?”

“Midtown. Rooftop party. He’s going after the girl.”

Her breath caught. “She left the Agency?”

“Belle dragged her out. Kaelen said nothing about it until Darien his father pressed him. Then boom. He was gone.”

Talia turned slowly toward the mirror, eyes darkening.

“She’s a threat,” she whispered. “He doesn't even see it.”

Anton added, “He’s not protecting her like an agent. He’s chasing her like something he doesn’t want to lose.”

Talia’s voice was quiet. Cold. “Send me the address.”

“Talia”

“Now.”

She ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed beside the vampire, who was still watching her with amusement.

“Leaving already?” he asked. “I thought we were just getting started.”

Talia zipped into a crimson dress, snug like blood against bone. “We were never starting anything.”

She swept out the door without looking back, heels striking the marble like war drums.

Tonight, she would find this girl.

And when she did?

Kaelen would have to choose.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, spilling warm light and pulsing music into the air as Elowen stepped onto the rooftop beside Belle and Ciara. A gentle evening breeze lifted her curls, and for the first time in what felt like weeks, she didn’t feel like a weapon or a prophecy.

Just a girl in a black dress, standing beneath stars.

The rooftop had been transformed into something out of a dream paper lanterns floating above the crowd, soft violet lighting illuminating long glass tables filled with drinks and desserts. Laughter bubbled across the terrace, mingling with low, seductive music.

Ciara whistled, her hands on her hips. “Bianca really went all out.”

Belle grinned, looping her arm through Elowen’s. “She always does. Tonight is about forgetting the Agency, the weirdness, the ink on your skin and remembering you’re allowed to have fun.”

Elowen smiled nervously, her eyes scanning the dance floor. “You sure we won’t stand out?”

Ciara nudged her. “You look like trouble in that dress. The good kind. Own it.”

The three of them made their way to the bar, giggling as Belle flagged down drinks glittering mocktails for Elowen and Ciara, something a little stronger for herself. The music shifted to something with a low bass thrum, and the crowd thickened near the center of the rooftop.

As they clinked glasses and sipped, Elowen let out a slow breath.

For a moment, she felt normal.

She didn’t notice the eyes on her from the edge of the crowd cold, calculating, and burning with something ancient and jealous.

Talia stood by the entrance in a blood-red dress, her lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

She’d found the girl.

And she wasn’t impressed.

Talia moved toward them, slipping through the crowd like a shadow draped in silk.

Elowen laughed at something Belle said, the tension in her shoulders finally beginning to melt as the night wrapped her in music, lights, and warmth. Ciara leaned against the bar, sipping something pink and fizzy, her eyes on a tall boy across the floor who kept sneaking glances at her.

And then

“Elowen, right?”

The voice was velvet-smooth, cool and confident.

Elowen turned and froze.

The woman standing before her was stunning. Tall, pale, with a blood-red dress that clung to every curve like it had been painted on. Her black hair framed her face in soft waves, and her eyes piercing, silver, and ancient looked her over like a collector examining a new artifact.

Elowen’s fingers twitched near her side. “Um… do I know you?”

Talia smiled, slow and unreadable. “No. But I know who you are. You’ve made quite an impression lately. Word travels fast.”

Belle turned, her friendly expression immediately dropping. “Sorry, who exactly are you?”

Talia didn’t even glance at her. Her eyes stayed locked on Elowen. “Relax. I’m just curious. Everyone’s talking about the mysterious new girl Kaelen dragged into the Agency like a precious little secret.”

Elowen blinked. “Kaelen?”

Talia stepped closer, lowering her voice so only Elowen could hear. “Has he told you why he’s really watching you? Why he brought you in? Or are you still under the illusion that he cares?”

Elowen’s throat tightened. “What are you ?”

Talia tilted her head, smiling like a snake offering a gift. “Let me give you some advice, darling. Kaelen doesn’t rescue people unless he has to. He’s cold. Detached. What you’re feeling? It’s not mutual. It’s pity. At best.”

Elowen stepped back, her expression flickering between confusion and anger.

Belle placed a protective hand on her shoulder. “Okay, that’s enough. Walk away, or I will make you.”

Talia finally turned to Belle, eyes narrowing. “You must be the handler. Cute. Loyal. But blind.”

Kaelen watched from across the rooftop, tension in his chest tightening like a vice. He couldn’t hear them yet. But he could see the way Elowen’s face shifted. The discomfort. The tension in her posture.

And Talia.

Of course it was her.

He started moving, slow and deliberate, cutting through the crowd like a shadow.

Talia caught the movement and smiled not at Kaelen, but to herself.

Let the seed take root.

Let her break a little.

And when Kaelen finally came to collect the pieces… maybe he’d see the truth.

Elowen

Elowen leaned over the railing of the rooftop, away from the music, the chatter, and Belle’s increasingly concerned glances. The cool breeze teased at the edges of her curls and calmed the warmth still clinging to her cheeks.

Talia’s words still lingered like the taste of sour wine.

Kaelen doesn’t rescue people unless he has to.

He doesn’t care about you. It’s pity. That’s all.

Elowen exhaled slowly.

She wasn’t hurt. Not really.

She hadn’t let herself hope for anything with Kaelen anyway. He was strong, intense, brooding and completely closed off. Whatever moments they’d shared those soft glances, the way he seemed to notice things others didn't they weren’t… anything. Not truly.

And even if they were, what did that mean?

She was a runaway with ink under her skin and a prophecy stitched into her bones.

She wasn’t someone men like Kaelen chose.

Not when they had women like Talia gorgeous, poised, powerful whispering in their ear and clawing at their past.

So no. Talia’s little speech didn’t break her.

It just reminded her of what she already knew: Kaelen might be protective, even kind when it mattered but that didn’t mean he cared. Not beyond duty.

And that was fine.

Because Elowen didn’t need him to care.

She just needed to stay alive.

Behind her, laughter erupted from a new group arriving near the bar. Ciara was already dragging Belle back onto the dance floor, offering Elowen a look stay if you want, or come back when you’re ready.

Elowen turned her gaze to the city lights below, and let the sound of the party wash over her.

She didn’t need Kaelen’s affection.

She didn’t need anyone’s.

She’d gotten this far on her own. She could keep going.

Even if she was starting to wish otherwise.