Chaper 3:TETHERED
899 Words
The alley pulsed with tension, thick like a storm about to break. Elena stood frozen, the sharp chill in the air a poor match for the fire building low in her stomach. He was there, still as stone, carved from shadows and moonlight. His silver eyes pierced her soul as if he could see every thought, every fear, every desire she hadn’t dared name.
“Why am I here?” she managed, though her voice cracked like fragile glass.
The vampire—she still didn’t know his name—stepped forward slowly. His movements were fluid, predatory, unnervingly calm. “You came because you had to. Something inside you knew.”
She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have. This is insane.”
“And yet,” he said, now only feet away, “you came.”
Elena swallowed hard, aware of the deep beat of her heart, how it seemed to echo in the silence between them. She forced herself to meet his eyes, though they unsettled her more than anything she’d ever experienced.
“You marked me,” she said, her hand brushing the faint wound on her neck. “What did you do to me?”
His expression didn’t change. If anything, it grew darker. “I should’ve killed you.”
Elena stiffened. “Then why didn’t you?”
A flicker of something—conflict, maybe pain—crossed his face, gone in an instant. “Because something about you stopped me. And now, I can’t undo what’s begun.”
Her breath caught. “What’s begun?”
Instead of answering, he stepped closer. She should’ve backed away, but her feet remained planted. His scent enveloped her—dark, earthy, and oddly comforting. He reached out, his fingers brushing her wrist, light as air. And in that simple touch, Elena felt a current snap between them, electric, violent, addictive.
“You’re tethered to me now,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “And I to you.”
Tethered.
The word was too heavy, too final. “I didn’t agree to this.”
“You didn’t have to.”
The chill in his voice was matched only by the heat flaring between them. Elena felt her anger rise to match her confusion. “You don’t get to decide that. I’m not some girl you can just—bite and bind!”
His eyes flashed. “You think I wanted this?” he snarled, suddenly closer, the space between them erased in a heartbeat. “You’re the first thing I’ve felt in centuries, little flame. Do you think that makes me happy?”
The force of his words rocked her. Centuries?
He was breathing hard, though she wasn’t sure vampires even needed to breathe. There was agony in his voice, pain layered beneath the anger. He looked away, clenching his jaw. “I was a king once. A prince of blood. Now I hide in alleys and tear through shadows because the world no longer has a place for monsters like me.”
She stared at him, her fear slowly mixing with something else. Curiosity. “What’s your name?”
He hesitated, like it hurt to speak it. “Lucien.”
“Lucien,” she repeated, the name foreign and heavy on her tongue.
He looked back at her, something raw flickering in his eyes. “You don’t know what you’ve stumbled into, Elena. You think you’re safe in your world of lectures and late-night parties? The second I marked you, the veil between your world and mine thinned. You’re no longer just a girl.”
She bit her lip, overwhelmed. “Then what am I?”
Lucien’s voice dropped to a whisper, so low she had to lean in to hear. “Mine.”
A shiver slid down her spine. He didn’t say it like a threat. He said it like a vow.
Elena pulled back slightly, needing to breathe. “I need time. I need to think.”
“Time won’t help you now,” he said. “This bond... it will only grow stronger.”
“What do you want from me?” she demanded, anger crackling in her tone.
Lucien looked at her with something unreadable. “I don’t know. But I can’t stay away.”
He turned, melting into the shadows, his presence vanishing like smoke. Elena stood alone, the weight of his words pressing in. She was tethered to a creature who hadn’t felt anything in centuries, a man who said he didn’t want her—yet had claimed her anyway.
Mine.
The word echoed in her skull as she stumbled back to campus, the world no longer feeling familiar. Was she really still Elena—the sarcastic, slightly naïve literature major who rolled her eyes at romantic drama? Or had something inside her changed?
That night, she couldn’t sleep. The bond Lucien spoke of—was it real? Her skin still tingled where he had touched her, her body betraying her thoughts. She remembered how his eyes had darkened, how his control wavered. He was dangerous. And yet... she wasn’t afraid.
She dreamed of fire and blood. Of him pressing her against cold stone, whispering things she didn’t understand but desperately wanted to. When she woke, she was panting, drenched in sweat.
And the mark on her neck? It was darker. Deeper.
She was changing.
Whether she wanted to or not.
- Writer
