Darius's feet moved toward the stone altar, as if guided by some unseen force. His mind was a blur, the only clear thing in his thoughts being the hunger that gnawed at him, a constant, unbearable presence. The man had said he needed to feed, but the words no longer held meaning. All Darius could think of was the blood that surged through his veins, craving release.
As he approached the altar, the air grew colder, the symbols on the ground pulsing with an ethereal light. The man stood silently before him, watching with that unsettling calm, his golden eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"You understand now, don't you?" the man asked softly, his voice like a whisper carried on the wind. "The thirst is not just hunger. It's power. Power you can command. But first, you must learn to surrender to it."
Darius's eyes flickered between the man and the altar. He was fighting to control himself, but the need… the primal need to feed was overwhelming. His fangs pressed painfully against his lips, his vision narrowing to the altar and the faint scent of blood in the air.
"Stop…" Darius muttered, his hands trembling. "I… I can't… control it."
The man's smile deepened, and he stepped closer, his shadow seemingly stretching unnaturally. "You're right. You can't control it—yet. But you will learn. You must. Or you will become a monster, no better than the beasts you fear."
The words struck a chord in Darius, but the hunger inside him only grew louder, more insistent. His throat burned, a fire he couldn't extinguish. It wasn't just the ache of an empty stomach; it was an insatiable void that threatened to consume everything.
"Please…" Darius's voice cracked, desperate. "Make it stop. I can't think. I can't—"
The man's hand shot out, gripping Darius by the chin again, forcing his gaze upward. "You're a Blood Sovereign. You are not weak. And you will not be a slave to this hunger. You will use it, shape it, and make it bow to you."
The man's words sent a shock through Darius's body, like a jolt of electricity. He could feel something stir deep inside him, a cold, ancient power awakening from within. The hunger was still there, clawing at him, but now there was something else—a strange, unfamiliar sense of control. It was subtle at first, like a flicker of light in the darkness, but it was there. He could feel it.
Darius closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, focusing. He could do this. He had to. This was his reality now. There was no going back.
"You are a sovereign of blood," the man said, his voice soft but firm. "And this… this is how you embrace that power. Surrender to it."
Darius opened his eyes, his vision now sharp and focused. The altar before him shimmered, the symbols on the ground glowing brighter. He could hear the pulse of blood around him—deep, steady, and vibrant. It was intoxicating.
Without warning, a shadow moved in the corner of his vision, and Darius turned sharply. A figure stepped from the darkness, a young woman, her skin pale, her eyes wide with fear. She was human, but there was something about her—something that made Darius's fangs ache more than they ever had before. She was an offering. A sacrifice.
"No," Darius whispered, taking a step back, his instincts screaming at him to resist. But the hunger was too great. It was all-consuming. His fangs itched to sink into her skin, to taste her blood. He could hear the rhythm of her heart, a steady drumbeat that called to him like a siren song.
The man's voice was low, urging, "You must choose. Embrace your nature, or be consumed by it."
Darius's hand trembled, hovering over his throat as he fought to suppress the urge to strike. The woman's eyes were wide, filled with terror, but something about her terrified him even more. The bloodlust was taking over, and the choice between humanity and the monster within him became clearer with each passing second.
He reached for her, his movements swift, the sound of her breathing loud in his ears.
But just as his hand closed around her arm, something inside him snapped.
Darius stumbled back, his entire body shaking as the flood of rage and hunger rushed through him. His fangs elongated further, but his hands clenched into fists, fighting the urge to strike.
"I can't," Darius whispered, the words barely escaping his lips. "I won't."
The man stood silently, watching him, his eyes unreadable. "You've made your choice, Darius Blackwood. The first step toward control is realizing that you are not the beast. You are its master."
Darius gasped for breath, the struggle inside him still raging. His eyes flickered to the woman once more, the bloodlust still clawing at him, but there was a flicker of something else. Restraint.
"I don't want to be this," Darius said, his voice hoarse. "I don't want to hurt anyone."
The man's smile softened, though there was little warmth in it. "And that is why you will succeed, Darius. Not because you are without darkness, but because you can see it, and you choose to fight it."
Darius's breathing began to slow, his fangs retracting. He stood there, trembling, trying to calm the storm inside him. The woman, though terrified, seemed to relax slightly as the tension in the air loosened. She was still a threat to Darius, but he had not succumbed to the primal urges that had nearly overtaken him.
The man stepped forward, placing a hand on Darius's shoulder. "This is the beginning. The path will be long, and your control will falter again. But you must keep fighting. Only then will you be able to master what you are."
Darius's head hung low as he tried to regain control. The hunger had not fully dissipated, but the man's words echoed in his mind.
He was not a monster.
At least… not yet.
Mission Update:
• Feed on a living creature to quench your thirst.
• New Task: Embrace the darkness within you and fight the bloodlust.
In Chapter 4, Darius takes a crucial step in his journey, fighting the overwhelming hunger and beginning to grasp control over the power within him. His internal struggle intensifies, with the mysterious figure pushing him to confront his darker nature, all while he attempts to hold on to whatever humanity remains. The tension between his monstrous urges and the desire to maintain control sets the stage for future growth and challenges.