"Then you'll finally get the answers you've been looking for," Manni replied softly, his tone encouraging.
A beat passed, heavy with unspoken fears and hopes. Then Alaric exhaled sharply, his decision made. "Alright then, Fiery," he said, using his pet name for Salviana.
Salviana smiled faintly, her resolve unshaken. She stepped forward and extended her arm toward Alaric.
Without hesitation, he took her wrist and, with the sharp edge of his clawed index finger, made a precise cut.
The sudden pain drew a soft gasp from her lips, but she didn't pull away. Alaric quickly positioned her wrist over Lucius's pale, unmoving lips.
Jean knelt beside Lucius, her hands trembling as she gently pried his mouth open to allow the blood to flow freely.
Thick, crimson drops slid from Salviana's wrist, dripping into Lucius's mouth with an almost hypnotic rhythm.
"Is it working?" Jean whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding silence in the room.
"Keep going," Alaric commanded, his tone steady but tense as he monitored Lucius's body for any sign of life.
The rich, divine blood flowed steadily, pooling on Lucius's tongue and trickling down his throat. The eerie atmosphere of the tomb seemed to amplify with every second that passed.
Finally, Alaric withdrew Salviana's wrist and brought it to his mouth. Gently, he licked the wound, his tongue imbued with a soothing warmth that sealed the cut instantly.
Salviana exhaled sharply, her body trembling from the strange sensation, but she said nothing. She simply stepped back, her golden-green eyes fixed on the lifeless figure before them.
The group stood in tense silence, their eyes locked on Lucius. Every second felt like an eternity as they waited, breaths shallow and hearts racing.
The tomb seemed to hold its breath with them. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows that danced across the walls, as if the room itself were alive.
Suddenly, Lucius's chest rose sharply, a deep, rasping gasp filling the air. His fingers twitched, and his head jerked to the side. His sunken, lifeless eyes snapped open, glowing faintly with a haunting, otherworldly light.
Jean let out a startled yelp and scrambled back, nearly tripping over her own feet.
Salviana gripped Alaric's arm tightly. "He's waking," she whispered, equal parts awe and trepidation in her voice.
Lucius blinked slowly, his gaze unfocused as his lips parted, revealing elongated, glistening fangs. He let out a low growl, the sound guttural and primal, as if testing the boundaries of his reawakened body.
"Lucius," Alaric called cautiously, stepping closer. "Can you hear me?"
Lucius's glowing eyes darted toward him, and for a brief moment, recognition flickered within them. But it was fleeting, replaced by a predatory hunger that made the hair on the back of Alaric's neck stand on end.
"Get back," Alaric ordered, pushing Salviana behind him protectively.e
Lucius sat upright suddenly, his movements unnaturally sharp and fluid. His gaze swept over the room, lingering on Salviana with an eerie, predatory intensity before snapping back to Alaric.
"Lucius?" Jean called softly after her surprise weighed off.
The faint glow in his eyes darkened, turning into something more primal, something ravenous. What was happening? They wondered.
Before anyone could react, Lucius blurred into motion with impossible speed. In the blink of an eye, he was upon Jean, his iron grip locking her in place.
His fangs glinted in the dim light as he sank them into her neck with a sickeningly wet sound. Jean's gasp was choked, her hands scrabbling weakly at his chest.
"Jean!" Salviana cried, her heart pounding in terror. She surged forward to intervene, but Alaric's arm shot out, stopping her.
"Wait," Alaric commanded, his tone low but firm.
"Wait?" Salviana's voice trembled with outrage. "He's killing her!"
"She called him back. She must complete the bond," Alaric said, his jaw clenched as he watched Lucius feed. "If we interrupt, it could kill them both."
Salviana stared at him in disbelief but stopped struggling, though every fiber of her being screamed to act.
She could only watch helplessly as Lucius drank deeply, his grip on Jean unyielding. Her pale skin turned paler still, her head lolling weakly to the side as she whispered something faint.
"Lucius…" she croaked, her voice barely audible. "Lucius Drake…"
At the sound of his full name, Lucius froze, his glowing eyes snapping wide open. His grip slackened, and he pulled back abruptly, his lips and chin stained crimson.
He looked down at Jean's unconscious form in his arms, his expression shifting from hunger to horror.
"Jean?" he murmured, his voice trembling with guilt. He laid her down gently on the dusty floor, his hand lingering on her shoulder as if to reassure himself she was still alive.
Salviana broke free from Alaric's hold and rushed to Jean's side, pressing two fingers to her neck. "She's alive," she said, her voice tight with relief, "but she's weak. She's lost too much blood."
Salvia a cradled Jeans head and held her tight.
Lucius staggered back, his chest heaving as if he were breathing for the first time in centuries.
The color had returned to his face, and his once-withered frame now radiated a formidable, almost regal presence.
He was, undeniably, a man reborn. A fine, commanding figure who looked more alive than any of them had ever seen him.
"You could've pulled her out of my arms," Lucius said, his voice sharp as he glared at Alaric. The remorse in his eyes clashed with the anger in his tone.
Alaric crossed his arms, meeting Lucius's glare with unyielding calm. "You must take responsibility for your actions, Lucius. You're no longer a ghost, no longer a wandering spirit detached from consequence."
Lucius's jaw clenched, and he looked down at Jean again, her faint breaths barely audible. "I didn't mean to harm her… I—"
"You couldn't think," Alaric interrupted. "I understand even though now you've crossed a line."
Alaric understood, he knew how it had been the other day with his wife. It was irresistible.