The morning after Theo's duel with Adrian dawned with an uneasy calm. The estate was quieter than usual, the tension from the previous day lingering like a ghost in the air. Theo kept his movements deliberate, avoiding unnecessary interaction as he wandered the estate halls.
His thoughts churned relentlessly. Despite his outward indifference, Caera's words had struck a nerve. She had scolded him, but it wasn't her frustration that lingered—it was the concern in her azure eyes. He hadn't expected her to care so much.
"Why does she care?" Theo muttered under his breath, running a hand through his off-white hair. The question gnawed at him, but he had no time for answers.
The hunger from the previous day had only grown stronger, and his tattoo throbbed faintly beneath the glove he wore to conceal it. The crimson droplet was nearly gone, its glow dim and weak.
Theo knew what that meant. He needed blood—soon.
