Ink and Immortality

The Lantern & Loaf

Cassian’s breath fogged in the air as he stepped into the warmth of the Lantern & Loaf, the local pub that had become something of a second home. The pub buzzed with quiet life—lamplight flickered on worn wooden walls, laughter and clinking glasses filled the gaps in conversation. He slid into his usual booth near the back, his pen and notepad never far from hand.

He hadn't stopped thinking about her—the woman cloaked in fog and mystery, with eyes that burned like stars and a voice that clung to the edges of his dreams. He knew only her face and what she was: a vampire. The article he published about their encounter had garnered some attention, mostly crackpots and enthusiasts reaching out, claiming sightings or offering myths. But none could match what he saw.

Tonight, he ordered his drink with a tired nod and began jotting down notes. Another speculative piece? Or maybe something more... poetic? His thoughts, however, were interrupted when the door to the pub creaked open.

Heads turned. Silence followed.

A woman stepped in—striking and scandalous, her flaming red hair cascading like silk ribbons over bare shoulders. Her dress, if it could be called that, shimmered black with a plunging neckline and high slits that made every step an invitation. Blood-red lips curled into a knowing smile. The tavern seemed to hold its breath.

She moved like a predator who had already claimed her prey, directly toward Cassian. He blinked, caught between awe and suspicion.

"You must be Cassian Grey," she purred, sliding into the seat across from him without invitation. Her perfume was intoxicating—floral, with an undercurrent of something wild.

"Depends on who's asking," he said, cautious, trying to hide the sudden tightness in his chest.

"Aradia," she replied, voice like velvet over a dagger’s edge. "I read your article. Beautifully written, if a touch naive."

He raised a brow. "You know her?"

Aradia tilted her head, mockingly thoughtful. "Let’s just say… I know of her."

Her fingers slid along the edge of the table as she leaned forward, giving him a view most men would have killed for. "She’s not what you think, Cassian. She plays at majesty, but she lacks the strength to rule."

Cassian’s curiosity burned through his guarded expression. "Rule?"

"Oh, you didn’t know? She’s not just some lonely vamp haunting graveyards for poetic effect. She’s the head of one of the oldest covens in this part of the world. A ruler of monsters who thinks herself civilized." Aradia scoffed. "She’s too merciful, too bound by outdated sentiment. She actually believes we can coexist with humans. It’s laughable."

Cassian sat back. This was news—big news. But there was a flicker of something else in Aradia's eyes—resentment, hunger, ambition.

"And what? You want her throne?" he asked, watching her carefully.

She laughed. "I want what’s best for our people. She’s weak. She’s a dreamer, trying to romance the idea of peace while real threats grow stronger every day."

Cassian narrowed his eyes. "You seem very invested."

Her smile widened. "Because I care, Cassian. And because I see potential in you. She was foolish to waste her secrets on you. I won’t make the same mistake."

She reached out, fingers trailing over his hand. Her touch was ice and fire, her gaze locking with his. "I can offer you something she never would. Immortality. Power. Answers to every question you’ve ever asked—and the means to write truths no one would dare ignore."

Cassian’s breath hitched. For a moment, he hesitated—but deep within him, the image of the other woman returned. Her eyes, her presence. Seraphine.

"Why me?" he asked finally.

Aradia’s voice dropped, sultry and low. "Because you’ve already been marked by her. And I know how to turn that to my advantage."

She leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear. "Say yes. Take my hand. Help me end her reign and become something more."

Cassian turned to look at her—and in that moment, he felt something shift. A subtle ripple in the air.

Aradia’s expression changed, the predator slipping as confusion flickered through her. She reached for him again, this time muttering words he couldn’t hear—something old and strange.

Nothing happened.

Her eyes narrowed. Again, she whispered, a deeper power rising behind the words. Still, nothing.

Cassian blinked, the haze that had started to form around his mind clearing before it could settle.

She sat back slowly, stunned.

"What did you do to me?" he asked, frowning.

Aradia didn’t answer. Not at first. Her expression twisted into something dangerous and dark.

"She warded you," she muttered, more to herself than to him. "That conniving—"

She bit her tongue.

"So she’s not just weak," she hissed, barely able to mask her fury, "she’s possessive too. Of a pathetic human, no less."

Cassian stared at her, the pieces failing to come together, but the weight of something immense pressing on him nonetheless.

"You should be careful, Cassian Grey," Aradia said, standing in a whirl of fury and grace. "You’re in far deeper than you understand."

With one last venomous glance, she turned and disappeared into the night, leaving only the scent of smoke and roses in her wake.

Cassian sat back, heart thundering, head reeling.

She’s a ruler of some sort? She warded me?! And now there’s another one coming after her… and me...?

His grip tightened on the pen in his hand. There were stories to write. But more than that, there were truths to uncover.

And perhaps… someone he needed to see again.