The manor was quiet, but Elena could not sleep. She wandered the halls with only a candle in her hand, the shadows stretching long across the stone walls. Her thoughts were heavy, and no matter how she tried, she could not stop hearing Darius's voice.
You belong to mine.
The words burned in her mind.
In the main hall, she stopped when she heard low voices. She pressed herself against the wall, careful not to make a sound. It was Lucian and Marcus.
"She's stronger than you think," Lucian said firmly. "She will not bend to him."
Marcus's voice was colder. "You hope she won't. But hope is not enough. I've seen his kind before. He gets into their hearts, their thoughts. Once that happens, there is no pulling them back."
Lucian growled softly. "She is not like the others. Elena has a choice."
Marcus let out a harsh laugh. "Choice? You and I both know blood is stronger than choice. He marked her long before you even met her. His shadow lives in her veins."
Elena's chest tightened. She pressed a hand against the wall to steady herself.
Lucian's voice rose, sharp as steel. "Do not speak of her like that. She is not a monster. She is not him."
Marcus did not answer at once. Then, after a moment, he said, "Tell me this, Lucian. If the day comes when she stands beside Darius instead of you, what will you do?"
Silence filled the hall. Even the fire seemed to stop crackling.
At last, Lucian said quietly, "Then I will still fight for her. Even if she is lost."
Elena's throat ached. She wanted to step out, to tell him she was listening, but her legs would not move. Instead, she slipped back into the shadows, the candle shaking in her hand.
Later, in her room, she sat on the edge of her bed, her heart torn. Marcus's words were cruel, but they struck something deep inside her. Was she already slipping toward Darius without knowing it?
Her mind swirled with memories—Lucian's gentle touch, his loyalty, his warmth. Then Darius's voice, his dark eyes, his promise of power. Both pulled at her, and she was caught in the middle, breaking apart.
The next morning, the villagers came to the manor. Their faces were pale, their eyes filled with worry. One of them, a woman with gray hair, spoke. "My daughter dreams of him," she whispered. "She wakes screaming his name. The Ancestor's shadow spreads. We need to know you can protect us."
Elena wanted to speak, but Marcus stepped forward. "Lucian will protect you. But do not forget—he can only fight so long as she does not betray us."
The villagers turned to Elena. Some eyes were kind. Others were full of fear. She felt their judgment pierce her like knives.
"I will not betray you," she said, her voice steady though her hands trembled. "I promise."
The villagers nodded, though their faces did not soften. They left with heavy steps, and Elena felt the weight of their doubt pressing on her chest.
Later, in the garden, Lucian found her sitting alone among the roses. He sat beside her, the air quiet except for the sound of wind.
"You heard us last night," he said softly.
Elena's eyes widened. "How did you—"
"I could feel you," he said, a faint smile touching his lips. "You are not as hidden as you think."
Her cheeks burned. She lowered her gaze. "Marcus is right, isn't he? Part of me is already his. Part of me is already lost."
Lucian shook his head at once. "No. Do not believe that. You are stronger than his shadow. Stronger than you know."
"But what if I'm not?" she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "What if I wake one day and find I want him more than I want you? What if I can't fight it?"
Lucian took her hands in his, firm and warm. "Then I will remind you who you are. I will fight for you, Elena. Not just with swords, not just with blood, but with love. Because love is stronger than fear. Stronger than him."
Her tears slipped down her cheeks. She leaned into him, and for a moment, she let herself believe. She let herself hope.
But far away, in the dark of the forest, Darius stood on a cliff, watching the manor with a smile. He could feel her doubt, her tears, her longing.
And he knew that sooner or later, her heart would call to him.