Part 1: Burn Beneath the Skin
She woke gasping.
Sweat clung to her collarbones, darkening the linen of her shift. Her skin burned—not from fever or wound—but something deeper, coiled inside her like a second heart pulsing too fast.
Sylvia sat up in the narrow bed, claws digging into the mattress.
Yuji was asleep across the room, shirtless, chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of a man who'd carved death and still slept like a stone. The faint glow from the runes on his shoulder had dimmed, but not vanished. His mana leaked into the room like warmth from a hearth.
Too much.
It wasn't just scent anymore.
She could feel it—his pulse, his power, humming in the walls, soaking into the wood, brushing against her skin like invisible hands.
Her tail flicked sharply. Her thighs pressed together.
She growled and forced herself to stand, padding barefoot toward the washbasin. The cold water bit her skin. It didn't help.
The mirror above the basin was cracked, but she caught her reflection anyway.
Flushed cheeks. Dilated pupils. Her breathing uneven. Her ears twitching with phantom noise.
This isn't lust.
It was need.
Raw. Primal. Magical.
"Interesting symptoms," said a voice from the corner.
Amelia was seated at the windowsill, legs draped over the side, wearing a silk robe she'd stolen—or conjured—and sipping a glass of something dark.
Sylvia's claws flexed. "How long have you been watching me?"
"Long enough to confirm it," the vampire said. "You're in heat."
"I'm not an animal."
Amelia smiled faintly. "No. But you are fertile. And he's leaking magic like a drunken god in spring. You've been breathing his essence for days. Of course it's affecting you."
Sylvia bit the inside of her cheek.
"You knew this would happen."
"I guessed. You've got a compatible bloodline. Strong core. And instincts sharper than your mind." She tilted her head. "He'll feel it soon. You're synced. Not bonded—but close."
Sylvia turned her back to the mirror. Her hands were trembling now.
"Why aren't you affected?"
Amelia's grin faded slightly. "Because I don't share power. I consume it. That's how vampires bond. Through dominance. You… you connect. You feel. It's messy. It's dangerous."
Sylvia's voice was low. "I'm not doing anything without his consent."
"Oh, darling." Amelia laughed once, soft and cold. "You think he's the one in danger?"
Part 2: Consent and Hunger
Yuji didn't pretend to be asleep when she walked over.
He'd woken halfway through her pacing. The room was too quiet. Her heat was too loud.
He opened his eyes slowly, still on his side, facing the wall.
"You okay?" he asked.
Her bare feet stopped beside the bed. "No."
He rolled onto his back. "Wanna sit?"
"No."
Silence stretched between them.
Then she said, "It hurts."
Yuji sat up. The moonlight cut across her skin, painting silver on sweat. Her eyes burned—not with desire, but shame.
"I thought I could control it," she said. "I thought I was stronger."
"You are."
"I'm not."
She crossed her arms tightly, as if trying to hold herself together.
"Your magic's inside me. Not just from before. From being near you. Sleeping near you. Breathing you. It's… building. And my instincts keep telling me the only way to stop it is to let it happen."
Yuji's voice was quiet. "What does 'it' mean?"
"The bond," she whispered. "The real bond."
He stood slowly.
His bare feet stepped across the wooden floor. No armor. No weapons. Just two people—unclothed in more than skin.
He stopped in front of her. He didn't touch her.
"I won't take anything," he said. "Not because you're in pain. Not because it's easier. And not because it's expected."
Her jaw clenched. "I'm asking."
"I'm still not assuming."
Sylvia looked up at him then. Eyes fierce. Wet. Angry.
"Do you think this is weakness?"
"No," Yuji said. "I think this is courage."
"Then don't treat me like I'm fragile."
"I'm not."
"Then don't hold back."
Yuji stared at her.
And then he reached up—slowly—and removed the collar from her throat.
It hit the floor with a soft, metallic thud.
No words.
Just air between them.
And heat.
He placed one hand on her cheek, and she leaned into it like it hurt.
"Then let's do this," he said. "Together. On purpose."
She nodded once.