The chamber was quiet now, save for the faint hum of energy still lingering in the air, the aftermath of Victor's trial. Shadows ebbed and flowed faintly around the room, an extension of the Nightwalker's presence. She stood before him, her petite frame cloaked in an aura of both elegance and danger. Crimson eyes locked onto Victor's, glowing softly with a mix of reverence and something far more intense.
Victor stood rooted in place, his chest still tight from the weight of her earlier words. The bond between them was forming—he could feel it in the subtle pull against his soul, an unfamiliar sensation that left him feeling both connected and vulnerable. But it wasn't complete yet. Not until he gave her a name. Not until he accepted the depth of what she was offering.