New World!
743 Words
Elena...
Apparently, nearly dying and accidentally binding your soul to a vampire comes with side effects—like glowing wrists, feeling cravings that aren’t yours, and being politely kidnapped for your own safety.
Mr. Logan’s mansion was straight out of a gothic fever dream—tall, elegant, too many hallways, and walls that probably remembered blood spilled centuries ago. The inside smelled like old books, leather, and something darkly intoxicating. Logan.
I followed him down a corridor, still trying to figure out how I went from attending my friend’s wedding to entering vampire high society like a very underdressed, very confused guest star.
His family was waiting for me in the dining hall. Annarose comes forward and hugs me.
"Dear, I'm so sorry you're going through this and I'm sure you have questions."
"Talk to us, Elena. We'll answer any question you have."
Before I could open my mouth, Mr.Logan stepped between us, voice cool and commanding. “Not tonight.”
“Seriously, Mr.Logan—what is happening to me? To us?” I asked, barely holding in my panic. “Why do I feel like I’m someone else?”
Mr. Logan didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped closer, gaze gentle for once. “You’ve been through enough today. Sleep first. We’ll talk in the morning. Every question, every answer—you’ll get it. I promise.”
I wanted to argue. Demand details. Demand truth. But my body ached, and my mind was splintered with exhaustion.
He showed me to a guest room—if you could even call it that. It was twice the size of my apartment, with silver velvet curtains, a fireplace, and a bed that looked like it belonged in a vampire royalty catalog.
He turned to leave, but paused at the door.
“Elena…” His voice dropped lower. “Don’t call me Mr. Logan anymore. That was fine in the office, but now—this bond—it’s not just some work relationship. It's... deeper. Messier.”
I nodded, trying not to look directly at him because his eyes were doing that thing again—looking through me.
“Okay,” I whispered. “Thank you, Mr. Logan.”
Silence.
Then—
His sigh. Long. Slow. Dramatic.
I looked up. “What?”
“That’s twice tonight,” he said, folding his arms. “Are you doing this on purpose now?”
I bit back a laugh. “No! I swear, it’s like… muscle memory.”
He leaned on the doorframe, finally smiling. “Well, break the habit, Elena. Or I’ll start calling you Miss Moreau, and believe me, it’ll sound way worse with a vampire accent.”
I grinned. “Fine. Deal.”
We stood there for a second too long. The air between us stretched, soft and strange. I didn’t feel scared anymore. I just felt… aware. Of him. Of the bond. Of the way my heart responded to his nearness like it had its own script now.
Finally, he nodded. “Goodnight, Elena.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Logan" I murmured.
Logan raised an eyebrow.
I looked at the ground. “Pure accident.”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, when I glanced up, I caught something flicker across his face.
Was that... amusement?
His lips twitched—an almost-smile.
“You’re impossible,” he muttered, voice softer now. “And don’t ever change.”
I blinked. “You’re not mad?”
He shrugged, eyes locked with mine. “I find it cute.”
My brain short-circuited.
Cute.
The cold, brooding vampire who treated feelings like forbidden spells just called me cute?
I opened my mouth to fire back something sarcastic but forgot how to speak. Because for a second, it felt like the bond between us pulsed with warmth—no hunger, no darkness. Just… something kind.
Something dangerous.
He looked away first, like he’d said too much, then added, “Just… try not to say it in public. I have a reputation to uphold.”
I couldn’t help it—I laughed.
“Sure thing, Mr. Logan.”
And this time, I didn’t miss the smile he tried to hide.
"Goodnight, Elena"
As the door closed gently behind him, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
Somehow, being here—in this strange house, with a stranger I was bonded to—felt safer than anywhere else had in a long time.
Even if I still accidentally called him Mr. Logan.
- Writer
