Bloodbound: The Darkness that Loved Me

The night Elara Vale decided she would rather die than go back was the night the rain turned red. Perhaps it wasn't really red. Perhaps it was only the blood running from the corner of her mouth, mixing with the rain as it slid down her chin. She didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. Not the expensive house behind her. Not the life Adrian had built around her, like a beautiful prison. Not the diamond still cutting into the swollen flesh of her finger. She tore the ring from her hand and threw it into the darkness. It disappeared without a sound. For a moment, Elara simply stood there. Bare feet bleeding against the cold stones. Hair plastered against her face. A torn black dress clinging to a body that had learned, over the years, how to become small whenever Adrian's temper changed. She should have been afraid. Instead, she felt nothing. And somehow, that frightened her more. Behind her, the enormous doors of the estate slammed open. “Elara!” His voice. Even through the storm, she knew it. Her entire body reacted before her mind could. Her shoulders tightened. Her breath caught. Her feet instinctively moved backward. Not toward him. Away. She ran. She didn't know where she was going. She only knew where she couldn't go. The forest swallowed her almost immediately. Branches tore at her arms. Roots caught beneath her feet. Rain blinded her. But she kept running. Because somewhere behind her was the man who had spent years convincing her that she was nothing without him. And somewhere inside her, beneath the fear and bruises and exhaustion, a tiny voice was screaming that she deserved to live. Even if she didn't yet know how. “Elara!” His voice became distant. Then disappeared. She kept running. Until the forest changed. The trees became older. The wind became colder. And the darkness seemed to gather around her rather than simply exist. Elara slowed. Ahead, through the rain, stood an iron gate. Beyond it rose a mansion. Huge. Black. Beautiful. Its towers disappeared into the clouds, and hundreds of windows stared down through the storm like silent eyes. She had heard stories about this place. Everyone in the village had. Veyr House. The abandoned manor. The house that had belonged to a man who had supposedly died more than two centuries ago. The house no one entered. The house from which no one returned. Elara laughed. It was a broken, breathless sound. Of all the places she could have stumbled upon tonight, she had found the home of a monster. Perhaps that was fitting. She pushed against the iron gate. It opened. Elara froze. She hadn't unlocked it. She hadn't even touched the latch. The gate had simply opened for her. A chill traveled down her spine. "Hello?" Her voice disappeared into the rain. Nothing answered. She should have turned around. She should have gone back into the forest. Instead, she walked through. The gates slammed shut behind her. Elara spun around. Nothing. Only rain. Only darkness. Only the distant sound of thunder. She looked toward the mansion. One window was illuminated. Then another. Then another. One by one, lights began appearing throughout the enormous house. As though something inside had just awakened. Elara's heart began pounding. She climbed the stone steps. The enormous front doors opened before she reached them. Warm air touched her face. She stepped inside. The doors closed behind her. Silence. Complete and absolute. The storm seemed to vanish. Elara stood trembling in the entrance hall. The room was magnificent. Black marble. Dark wooden floors. Massive chandeliers. Portraits covering the walls. And candles. Hundreds of them. Every candle had been lit. She stared at them. Then she noticed something else. A fire was burning in the enormous fireplace. And beside it stood a man. Tall. Impossibly still. He wore a black suit that looked as though it belonged to another century, yet somehow appeared perfectly at home against his broad shoulders. Dark hair fell loosely around his forehead. His face was pale. Not sickly. Beautiful. Unnaturally beautiful. But it was his eyes that held her. They were almost black. Almost. Something crimson flickered within them. Elara's breath caught. The man studied her silently. Not her torn dress. Not her bruises. Not her bare feet. Her. As though he were trying to remember a face he had seen in a dream. Finally, he spoke. His voice was low. Controlled. Dangerously calm. "You shouldn't be here." Elara swallowed. "I know." His eyes moved briefly to the blood on her mouth. His jaw tightened. "You need to leave." She almost laughed. The sound caught painfully in her throat. "Where?" He said nothing. She looked toward the door. Then back at him. "I don't have anywhere to go." Something changed in his expression. Barely. But she saw it. Something almost like pain. The man stepped away from the fireplace. Elara immediately stepped backward. He stopped. He didn't come closer. That surprised her. Most men did. They saw fear and moved toward it. Adrian always had. The stranger simply watched her. "What is your name?" he asked. She hesitated. "Elara." His expression changed. For the first time, genuine shock crossed his face. "Elara..." He said her name like a prayer. Or a curse. "You know me?" "No." The answer came too quickly. She narrowed her eyes. "You're lying." A faint smile touched his mouth. It wasn't comforting. It was haunting. "Perhaps." Thunder shook the windows. Elara flinched. The man noticed. His gaze darkened. "Who hurt you?" She looked away. "No one." Another lie. His eyes dropped to the bruises around her wrists. Then to the blood beneath her fingernails. Then back to her face. "Who?" She shook her head. "It doesn't matter." "It matters to me." She stared at him. Why? Why would it matter to a stranger? He was the first to look away. "Come." Elara didn't move. "I won't hurt you." She almost smiled at the absurdity of it. Every dangerous man she had ever known had said some version of those words. "No." He turned back. "No?" "No." Something almost amused flickered across his face. "You have no idea who I am." "Neither do you." Silence. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled. It was the first truly human thing she had seen in him. "My name is Lucien Veyr." The name struck her like cold water. Veyr. She had heard it whispered in the village. She remembered the stories. The disappearances. The blood. The deaths. Her eyes widened. Lucien noticed. "You've heard of me." She couldn't speak. He sighed. "Then you know what I am." Elara looked at his face. At his impossibly pale skin. At the crimson hidden inside his eyes. At the way he stood perfectly still despite the raging storm. And suddenly she understood why the house had felt wrong. Why the darkness seemed alive. Why the gate had opened. Why the candles had lit themselves. Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "You're a vampire." Lucien didn't deny it. Instead, he stepped toward the fire. The flames illuminated the side of his face. "Yes." Elara's heart began racing. But strangely, she wasn't running. Maybe because she had already run too far. Maybe because death no longer seemed frightening. Or perhaps because something deep inside her recognized the truth before her mind could accept it. Lucien looked at her. "You should be terrified." "I am." "No." His gaze held hers. "You're exhausted." The words broke something inside her. Elara's knees weakened. She hadn't cried when Adrian struck her. She hadn't cried when she ran. She hadn't cried when she realized she had nowhere to go. But now, standing before a vampire who should have frightened her more than anything in the world, she felt the tears finally come. Lucien didn't move. He simply watched as she covered her face. And when Elara whispered the words she had been too afraid to say aloud for years— "I just want someone to stop hurting me." —the vampire's expression became something she would remember for the rest of her life. Not hunger. Not cruelty. Rage. Ancient, terrible rage. But none of it was directed at her. Lucien turned toward the window. Outside, somewhere beyond the trees, something moved. His eyes flashed crimson. His voice became colder than the winter rain. "Then you've come to the wrong house." Elara looked at him. Lucien slowly turned back. "Because the man you're running from..." A low growl escaped his throat. "...has just crossed into my territory." And somewhere deep within the forest, something screamed. Lucien's fangs descended. Elara finally understood. She had not escaped from one monster. She had run directly into another. The difference was— This monster was already waiting for her.