Viktor Hale stood frozen, his sharp fangs still stained with Kian's blood. His senses were reeling, struggling to process what had just happened. The human he had attacked,the man who should have been nothing more than another nameless victim in New Albion, had somehow connected with him. Not just through the blood, but something deeper, something primal.
This heartbroken human, was his mate.
The realization hit Viktor like a freight train, a force so powerful it nearly drove him to his knees. In all his centuries of existence, Viktor hadn't felt the mate bond since… since her. His heart, once long dead and untouched by emotion, suddenly thudded painfully in his chest, as if awakening from a centuries-long slumber. He could still feel the lingering traces of Kian's emotions surging through him, waves of heartbreak, loneliness, and despair so palpable that they almost became his own.
He staggered back, his breath hitching as he stared at the slumped figure of Kian, unconscious against the alley wall. Viktor's mind was a storm of confusion, anger, and disbelief. This was impossible. He'd fed on countless humans over the years, many of them filled with fear, hatred, even passion, but never had he experienced something like this.
The mate bond was a rarity among vampires, a connection that tied one's soul to another's for eternity. It was ancient magic, something so deep and dangerous that most vampires, Viktor included, believed it had faded into myth. And yet, here it was, surging through him like wildfire, tethering him to a human of all things.
A human who was broken, heart-wrenchingly vulnerable, and completely unaware of the bond now tying them together.
Viktor could hear Kian's heartbeat, weak but steady. He should have killed him. It would've been the rational thing to do. Yet, Viktor found himself unable to make the final move. Something held him back, an instinct, a pull, a craving he couldn't explain. His hands, once so quick to deal death, hovered over Kian's still body, undecided.
He couldn't kill him. Not now. Not ever.
The thought made Viktor's throat tighten. His mind raced, trying to rationalize what this meant. The last time he had been bound to someone like this… it had destroyed him. He had vowed never to experience such a connection again, not after the way it had ended centuries ago. Yet fate, or whatever cruel twist of magic was at play, had decided otherwise.
Viktor looked down at Kian again. The human had no idea. He probably never would. But the bond was there, and it was undeniable.
A low growl rumbled in Viktor's chest. He couldn't leave Kian here. Not like this, bleeding and vulnerable in the middle of vampire territory. If any of the other bloodthirsty creatures roaming New Albion got a whiff of him, Kian wouldn't stand a chance. And even worse, if any of them realized *who* he was to Viktor… The consequences were too dangerous to risk.
Cursing under his breath, Viktor reached down and scooped Kian's limp body into his arms. The human was heavier than he looked, his form solid against Viktor's cold chest, but there was a strange comfort in the weight. An unwanted comfort that Viktor instantly shoved aside. This wasn't about feelings, it was about survival.
His own, and his mate's.
The shadows of New Albion enveloped them as Viktor moved through the city at an inhuman speed, his vampire instincts guiding him to his lair. The streets were desolate, the usual hum of nighttime activity absent as they passed through the darker, more dangerous districts. If anyone saw them, they didn't dare interfere. Viktor Hale was a name whispered in fear, a legend that stalked these streets like death itself.
As he carried Kian, Viktor's mind raced with questions he couldn't answer. Why *him*? Why now? Kian was nothing more than a broken human, a man whose heart was clearly in pieces. Viktor could still feel the raw pain that had flowed through Kian's blood, the echoes of an argument that had clearly shattered the young man's world. Why would the fates bind someone like him to a creature like Viktor?
The lair came into view, a nondescript building on the outskirts of the city, hidden beneath layers of magic and illusion. Viktor kicked open the door and entered, the familiar darkness welcoming him like an old friend. He moved quickly through the dimly lit corridors, past relics of his long existence, until he reached a small, secluded room near the back of the building.
Gently, Viktor placed Kian down on a large leather couch, stepping back as he watched the human's chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. The bite mark on his neck still oozed blood, a vivid reminder of the attack, but Viktor knew it would heal soon. His venom, while deadly to most, would protect Kian from further harm. Another layer of the bond's magic, whether Kian wanted it or not.
Viktor paced the room, his fingers twitching at his sides. He should have left Kian in the alley. He should have walked away, let fate take its course. But now, staring at the unconscious man who had somehow become his mate, Viktor realized just how deeply entangled he had become in Kian's life.
And he hated it.
He hadn't asked for this. He didn't *want* this. Viktor had spent centuries hardening his heart, burying his emotions, and living without attachments. He had perfected the art of detachment, of survival without caring. But now… now he was bound to a human who was just as broken as he had once been.
Kian groaned softly in his sleep, his head lolling to the side. The sound snapped Viktor out of his thoughts, and he moved toward him instinctively, his sharp eyes scanning for any signs of distress. Kian's face was pale, his expression twisted in pain, but he remained unconscious.
Viktor's hands clenched into fists. This was madness. He should have killed Kian when he had the chance. The bond wouldn't change that fact. It was dangerous, more dangerous than either of them realized, and keeping Kian alive would only complicate things further. But the bond… it called to him. It *demanded* that he protect Kian, that he keep him safe.
Viktor let out a sharp, frustrated breath and turned away from the couch, running a hand through his dark hair. His thoughts were a tangled mess, and the unfamiliar emotions swirling inside him made it difficult to think clearly. He needed to distance himself. Needed time to figure out what the hell he was going to do.
He had made a choice, though, whether he liked it or not.
He would keep him alive. For now.
---
Time passed slowly in the silence of the lair, the minutes stretching into hours as Viktor stood by the door, watching over Kian from a distance. He could feel the pull of the bond growing stronger, whispering to him like a ghost in the back of his mind, urging him to stay close to his mate. But Viktor resisted. He wouldn't let it control him. Not this time.
Kian stirred on the couch, his body shifting as he slowly began to regain consciousness. Viktor's sharp gaze immediately locked onto him, his muscles tensing as he prepared for the inevitable.
A soft groan escaped Kian's lips as his eyes fluttered open. At first, he was disoriented, blinking in confusion at the unfamiliar surroundings. His mind was still foggy, the remnants of alcohol and exhaustion clouding his thoughts. But then, as he shifted and felt the dull ache in his neck, reality came crashing down.
His hand flew to his throat, fingers brushing against the twin puncture wounds left by Viktor's bite. His eyes widened in terror as the memory of the attack came rushing back, the sensation of sharp fangs sinking into his flesh, the cold presence of the vampire who had captured him.
Kian shot up from the couch, his heart pounding in his chest. Panic surged through him as he scanned the room, his gaze landing on Viktor standing ominously by the door. The vampire's dark eyes were fixed on him, unreadable, but the tension in the air was palpable.
Kian's breath hitched, fear tightening its grip around his throat as he backed away, his body trembling. "Wh-what the hell is this?" His voice was hoarse, his throat raw from screaming earlier. "Where am I?"
Viktor didn't move, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever. "You're safe," he said, his voice low and calm, though there was an underlying tension in his tone.
Safe? Kian's mind reeled at the absurdity of the statement. He was in a vampire's lair, captured by a creature he had only heard about in horror stories, and the vampire was telling him he was safe?