🩸 Chapter 14 — Darius’s Temptation
538 Words
The night after Lucien’s confession, Elena couldn’t stay inside.
Her thoughts churned with his words — three before you… all dead. The idea pressed like ice into her bones. She wanted to believe she was different, that this bond meant something more, but every time she touched the burning mark, fear whispered back.
So when she wandered toward the square, she wasn’t surprised to find someone waiting.
“Evening, little mortal,” Darius said smoothly, stepping out from the shadows.
Elena stiffened. “You.”
He smiled, all sharp edges and dark charm. “Expecting someone else?”
She turned to leave, but his voice followed her, velvet-soft. “Lucien will never tell you the truth. Not the whole of it. But I will.”
Against her better judgment, Elena stopped.
“Why?” she asked, wary.
Darius stepped closer, his movements fluid, predatory. “Because unlike my dear brother, I don’t waste time pretending to be noble. I don’t hide behind half-truths and restraint. You deserve to know what you are.”
Her heart pounded. “And what am I?”
His eyes glinted silver in the moonlight. “A key. A vessel. The bond doesn’t just tie you to Lucien—it awakens everything that was broken the night our ancestor tried to defy fate. You’re not just his echo, Elena. You’re the curse itself, reborn in flesh.”
Elena’s breath caught. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” His smile widened. “Why do you think the mark burns when he’s near? Why do you think you dream of blood and roses, of fangs and fire? You’re not only bound to him—you’re made for him. To feed him. To break him. Or…” His voice dropped, dark and inviting. “To free him.”
He closed the last of the distance between them. She could feel his presence, sharp and magnetic, different from Lucien’s quiet gravity. Darius radiated danger, and yet something about him pulled at her all the same.
“Lucien wants to chain you to hope,” he whispered. “But hope kills faster than hunger. I can show you what he never will. I can show you how to survive him.”
Elena swallowed hard, fighting the pull. “Why would you help me?”
“Because,” Darius murmured, his gaze sliding to the glowing mark at her collarbone, “if you’re destined to burn… I’d rather it be in my arms than his.”
For one dizzy moment, the bond flared between them, wrong and electric, as if testing her. She stepped back, breaking the spell.
“Stay away from me,” she said, though her voice shook.
Darius only chuckled, bowing mockingly. “Oh, little mortal, you’ll be begging for my help soon enough. When his hunger finally takes you, and you realize love was never enough.”
And just like that, he vanished into the mist, leaving her trembling in the empty square.
But as Elena pressed a hand to her burning mark, she couldn’t shake his words.
The curse itself, reborn in flesh.
And for the first time, a terrifying question formed in her mind.
Was she Lucien’s salvation—
or his doom?
- Writer
