Lena woke up with a start, disoriented, her mind still foggy from sleep. The soft, unfamiliar fabric of a lilac silk nightie clung to her skin, and as she shifted, an alien sensation swept through her veins—a strange, almost foreign energy pulsing beneath her skin. She froze, her hand instinctively pressing to her chest as a shiver ran down her spine. There was something different, something off about her body, but she couldn't quite place it. It was as if she had woken up in a body that wasn't quite her own.
At first, her mind struggled to connect the dots, the memories hazy and distant. But then, like a floodgate opening, it all came rushing back.
Damien. His cold, cruel hands lifting her off the ground. His eyes, dark and endless, filled with hunger. The torment. The way he'd hurt her, held her helplessly in the air as though she were nothing more than prey to a predator. Then, his brother—the guy who had promised her a simple, odd job at the graveyard. The man who had set her up, who had orchestrated every moment. They had planned it. They had laid the trap, and she had walked right into it.
Her heart pounded in her chest, and the warmth in her veins twisted into a burning knot of anger and betrayal. They had tricked her. Every step, every word—carefully crafted to deceive her, to lure her into this nightmare. She had been nothing more than a pawn in their game, and now she was trapped. Stuck in their dark, twisted world with no way out.
Frustration and panic surged through her as she ran a hand through her disheveled hair, feeling the tangles pull at her scalp. The motion made her stop short. Her fingers trembled against her skin. There was something else... something she hadn't noticed before.
She drew her hand away from her hair, her heart skipping a beat as she looked down. The pain, the bruises, the swelling—it was all gone. Her hand, which had been swollen and scarred, was smooth and unmarked. The healing seemed too... quick. Too perfect. Her breath caught in her throat as she yanked the blanket off her body in a panic, revealing her leg.
Her leg, once grotesquely swollen and red, was now smooth and flawless, the skin no longer marred by the deep bruising Damien's shadows had left behind. It was as if her body had healed overnight, but that was impossible. She hadn't done anything. She hadn't even known she was capable of healing like this. Her limbs felt light, her skin almost... too perfect.
Her mind spun as the memories of the previous night came crashing back. Damien had held her down—fed from her. His teeth, his hunger—like a monster, his mouth against her skin, drawing from her as if she were nothing more than a meal. Had he done this? Had he healed her somehow? Was this a result of whatever twisted connection they now shared?
Lena's stomach churned at the thought, the cold fear creeping up her spine again, but it was quickly replaced with a surge of rage. Her body—her very essence—had been violated. She hadn't asked for any of this. She hadn't asked for this power, this gift, this curse.
How could they have done this to her? How could they have made her the center of their sick, twisted games? Anger swirled in her chest, hot and sharp, as she balled her fists and slammed them into the mattress.
The weight of her reality hit her in a way she couldn't ignore. She was caught. Caught in their web of lies, tricked into becoming a part of their world—whether she wanted to be or not. Her life was no longer her own.
Lena's breath hitched, her eyes springing open as the realisation slammed into her like a tidal wave. Her heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, everything around her seemed to freeze. The room fell eerily silent, and a cold shiver snaked down her spine.
That's not everything…
There's something else… something I didn't remember.
Her hand shot to her neck, her fingers trembling as they grazed the smooth skin. No bite mark, no bruise—nothing visible.
Lena's eyes snapped open, her senses assaulted by the unfamiliar softness of the silk nightie against her skin. The room was dim, the early morning light filtering through heavy curtains, casting long, faint shadows across the walls. The bed felt like a trap now, an illusion of comfort in a world turned upside down. Her heart raced as memories of the previous night surged forward—Damien, the hunger in his eyes, the way his hands had lifted her so effortlessly, the way he had tortured her. The way he had fed from her.
Her breath quickened. No. No, no, no…
Frantic, she shoved the blanket off her body, her feet hitting the floor with a soft thud. She moved quickly, almost stumbling in her haste to get away from the bed that had become a reminder of her helplessness. Her body felt strangely... light, like she had just woken from a long, dreamless sleep. But there was no time for that now. She needed answers.
The vanity stood ahead of her, a large mirror framed in gold. She was almost afraid to look at her reflection, as though the woman she would see staring back at her would be a stranger. But she had to know.
Lena's hands trembled as she pulled her hair back, exposing her neck. She lifted it carefully, her eyes darting to the side where Damien had bitten her the night before. Her stomach twisted with dread, but when she touched the skin, she was met with smooth, unblemished flesh. No mark. No scar. Nothing.
Her breath hitched as she inspected the rest of her body—her bruised limbs, her swollen leg, the fading cuts—all gone. As though the damage had never existed. How is this possible?
Her reflection stared back at her, wide-eyed and confused, but there was no time to process it. No time to think about the impossible. A shiver ran down her spine, and she heard it—his voice, smooth and arrogant, like a predator who had just caught its prey.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," Damien's voice carried across the room, dripping with a teasing, wolfish tone.
Lena froze, her heart slamming against her ribs. She hadn't even heard him enter. Panic surged in her chest as she whipped around to face him. There, leaning against the doorframe, was Damien—like some dark vision out of a nightmare, only more dangerous, more real.
She hadn't seen him this close before. The familiar air of arrogance hung around him like a second skin, but it was his presence, the weight of it, that struck her the hardest. His eyes gleamed darkly, watching her with a mix of amusement and something far more unsettling. He had the look of a predator studying its prey, only this time, she was no longer the one caged by his power.
He was different this morning—almost... charming, in an unsettling way. His hair was damp, a few drops of water clinging to the strands, dripping down to his neck, giving him a freshly showered appearance. But it didn't soften the darkness in his eyes, nor the predatory way he moved, like a lion lounging in the sun before it pounced. His clothes—dark, well-fitted, a tailored suit—made him look sophisticated, gentlemanly even. He looked every bit the part of someone who could have been a knight in shining armor, but Lena knew the truth. He was anything but that.
His smile was dangerous, full of malice wrapped in charisma. It was the kind of smile that could break you before you even realized what was happening.
"Little shadow," he said with a soft chuckle, the nickname slipping from his lips like a sin. "You make even this place look good."
Lena's stomach churned at the sight of him standing there. He looked perfect, a deadly mix of charm and danger, but beneath the surface, there was no denying what he was—what they both were now. He had done this to her. He had tricked her, and he had changed her.
His eyes locked onto hers with that unwavering intensity, and for a moment, she was paralyzed by the darkness in them. His presence was suffocating, wrapping itself around her like a shroud, and all she could do was stand there, her fists clenched, her body trembling.
Damien's gaze softened just a fraction as he took in her reaction, amusement dancing at the edges of his lips. He knew exactly what kind of hold he had on her, and it made her blood boil. This wasn't a man. This was something else entirely.